


Wild Hearts

by RegalPixieDust



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/M, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 05:06:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 69,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14205717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalPixieDust/pseuds/RegalPixieDust
Summary: Isolated, Regina has fought her way through a wasteland of zombies and hopelessness. Although, when Robin Locksley stumbles across this wild heart, he hopes to help her see that second chances exist and that she can find happiness again, even if she thinks it's impossible. Zombie apocalypse. AU. Outlaw Queen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love OQ and Zombies. Enjoy!!! I'd love to hear what you think!

 

Time stopped the moment the outbreak infiltrated the world. It's light and then it's dark. The sun goes about its business as usual. The very concept of time has been demoted to a state of irrelevance by a virus that nobody could have predicted, something that no amount of strategy or anticipation could have prepared anyone for the chaos that ensued.

A four-week course in Zombie Apocalypse Survival might have helped at least; learning how to fire a weapon, how to salvage supplies, how to make spam taste like something other than spam. At least that's what Daniel says to lighten the mood some days. 

 _Used_  to say.

It's what Daniel used to say.

It's right out of the movies, yeah, those ones. Rotting flesh, a stench that makes eyes water, and an infection that passes far too easily - one bite, one scratch, and you're a goner.

Within hours, the virus takes over a host, stripping away at the things that make them human. Sight diminishes, breathing slows, grip loosens, and then for a few silent moments, there's peace. It really doesn't last long before being rudely interrupted by whatever causes the reanimation. The body suddenly moves again, though it's not who was there before. There's a lack of morals and understanding. It's nothing more than a  _thing_ that was once a body left to become a shuffling sack of bones that doesn't care who or what it infects.

She's seen it far too many times - strangers, friends, lovers - they all die and come back before the swollen, tear-stricken eyes of a loved one. At that point, the only solution is to be mercifully executed to stop any spreading of the infection. It's tragic - a horror that no one should ever have to endure - and nobody understands it any more than Regina Mills.

She's has been travelling alone for months now; an unknown, unimportant number of days.

Isolation is the only thing she depends on. It's her best friend, her lifeline. To be isolated is to be independent. She's only reliant on herself, that way she can't be disappointed when others let her down. And, perhaps the most important aspect of all, isolation means she will never again have to feel the dreaded ache that comes with lose the love of her life.

Survival is the bottom line, the most important thing to her. And the only way to survive is to blend into the surroundings, no matter how dismal they may be. The first rule of survival is to have as little baggage as possible, physical and emotional. Keep to the essentials, the bare necessities - food and water, a weapon. Most importantly, closing off is vital. Travelling in groups means a greater risk of being spotted, a higher potential for error.

She knew early on that she had to build an armour so that no one can get close. She had to grow thorns to scare the rest of the world away.

If she doesn't care about anything or anyone else, she's nothing to lose...

...right?

The clock on the bedside table has stopped at 8.15 (morning or evening a mystery that will never be solved) and Regina has been staring at it for a good while before inhaling heavily and sitting up, fully clothed and preparing to extract herself from someone else's bed.

Every so often she wonders what the date is. Is it a cool spring day or a warm day in the fall? She kept up with it for a few months, but after a while, it becomes pointless, much like the mirror she finds herself staring into. It's above the dresser on the wall across from the bed. It's disheartening, her reflection.

Regina could go days without catching a glimpse of herself in one, and then when she does finally, her eyes meet that of a stranger.

This stranger has her physical features; hazel eyes, a scar concaving upon her lip, dark hair, but she doesn't see the woman she used to be. The old Regina would never have fired a weapon; the closest she would get would be the lash of her wit. The old Regina wouldn't know how to start a vehicle without the keys or how to syphon gasoline. It's a bitter and cruel reality, but she has to face the facts - the old Regina would be dead.

So instead of moping or letting her murky appearance bother her, when she catches herself in a mirror she takes a good hard look and gets to know this new woman. She recalls the killing she's witnessed, the execution she has had to perform, and the nights spent sleeping in the rain. Not to mention the hours spent hungry or thirsty. 

She shakes away from her reflection and stands, and as soon as her boots hit the floor, she swings her arms high above her head in a stretch that soothes her muscles perfectly. She rolls her neck from side to side, her long braid swinging with her movements, and she's pressing on the balls of her feet to lean up onto her tiptoes.

The braid is new and growing longer and longer. Her mother would hate it, so naturally, Regina adores it. It's a practical hairstyle - neat, tidy, out of the way. Not that it matters, her days of sensible pantsuits and a decorated face have been substituted for neutral coloured (browns, greys, greens, you name it) shirts and trousers, always branded with a unique stain here and there. And, of course, her apocalypse chic could never be complete without a few marks of dirt swiped across her soft skin.

The sun is bright outside, though not completely risen yet. It's early. It's most likely just coincidence, but she loves days when she wakes at this time and she wonders if her body does it deliberately.

The room is engulfed in peachy oranges and soft tones of pink, colours she links with happiness and warmth, all the things she is lacking. But she makes up for that loss in tact and skill - the skills needed to survive this hellhole. Sure, at first she was utterly useless. She hadn't a clue how to handle herself and made reckless decisions, but now she is meticulous and careful. She's never caught off guard anymore. The element of surprise is something that these _things_ used to have on her but she vowed after many close calls to never give it back to them.

The morning all Hell broke loose was the scariest one of her entire life, even now after everything she's been through. At least she knows that Daniel would be proud of her now, no matter what she's had to do in order to survive. He taught her everything he could, and his tactics were just as drastic as hers are now: Kill first, ask questions later.

She had to stop wondering if the zombies are conscious or aware and learn quickly that any creature left to feast, even if not directly impacting anyone, are simply potential creatures that will kill you. Everyone is dangerous. Every _thing_  is an enemy. 

Always.

Suddenly, she's startled by a noise from downstairs. It's a faint shuffling, the careful opening and closing of a door (the back door to the kitchen, she knows by the way she hears a soft thud against a counter). Regina abandons her stretch and quickly pulls the knife that had been kept under her pillow as she slept. Abandoning her belongings, she creeps towards the bedroom door. Carefully tiptoeing her way out of the bedroom, she skims down the stairs slowly and sneakily, expertly skipping over the parts that she knows will creak and give her away.

The knife is in one hand, the other is readied for the gun in the back of her pants that she will only fire if she absolutely needs to. When she can no longer hear the crunching steps or closing of cupboards, she stands dead in her tracks and concentrates. Chewing on the inside of her cheeks, she listens for the slightest giveaway of the intruder, not moving a muscle or daring to breathe.

She knows she's not dealing with the undead, there's no way it would have silenced that quickly, although, they have been becoming more and more tactful. But she keeps listening and she manoeuvres around the corners of the hallway towards the kitchen and that's when whoever this is makes their first mistake.

First, there's a soft scratch, and then a stretching sounds. It's not a gun or a knife, so she hasn't a clue what kind of weapon is about to be in her face. The doorway to the kitchen is in sight and she opts for the gun in a moment of panic, she won't shoot, but she sure as hell needs the upper hand incase this mystery guest isn't as considerate.

Against her better judgement, she waits for a second longer than she should to commit, and the decision bites her in the ass. Luckily her reflexes are intact and fast. She doesn't notice his face, just the sudden emergence of his frame and something moving fast towards her face. It's not a bullet but it's something that makes her move just as violently.

Stepping to the side quickly and with a gasp, she  _just_  dodges its impact, letting the guilty stick pierce firmly into the far wall of the hallway.

"Apologies, milady," he speaks from behind her, quietly but sincere, the accent drawing her attention mostly, but not enough to rip her eyes from the victimised wall. She's breathing heavily. That was a close call and that  _stick_ could have easily been her undoing.

It takes a second and an episode of eye squinting before she realises, "Did... did you just fire an arrow at me?" Adrenaline is making her heart pump fast, and she tries to steady her breathing, licking her lips and noticing all too well how the shock instantly dried them. 

"I did, I thought you were one of those things. I'm sorry. But you're lucky, I usually never miss."

He offers her his arm, a sorry attempt at kindness after almost murdering her. There's no way she's taking it, so she pushes herself off the wall, straightening herself upright, and steps back from him. She's still reeling a bit, but she understands, pulling the arrow from the wall, She offers it back, "Don't apologise for protecting yourself, I wouldn't."

He takes the arrow tentatively, gripping it tightly with his fingertips as close to the point as possible. Clearly, her state of mind has thrown him, it's not every day someone all but congratulates you for taking a shot at their face. 

And then the inevitable staring starts. It's necessary and luckily only lasts a few seconds, but they attempt to study each other's faces, eyeing up and down to check for any visible wounds or signs of infection. Only, Regina can't help but notice how ruggedly handsome he is. It's clear he has a story, a painful one, and it draws her in like a magnet, like the universe doesn't want to deprive her of the painful understanding. She does what she does best: she shakes it away, ending the interest and telling the universe to shove it.

Passing him, she enters the kitchen, unable to hold back the scoff when she sees that her supplies are stuffed into bags that aren't hers. "I spent hours looking for these," she growls, showing him the cans and water bottles he's stolen, lifting them from his bags and dropping them back to the granite countertop. "So, other than a thief, who are you?"

"Robin Locksley, at your service," he says confidently, just about to offer a hand to shake and no doubt another apology for the misunderstanding, but a startling groan and crash echoes from the front of the house - he's attracted company it appears.

There's the sound of glass breaking under shuffling footsteps, and the groans and moans are most definitely conjured from the lungs of the undead, she can identify it from a mile away at this point. He jumps into action, impressing her slightly at first, but she rolls her eyes heavily when he pulls the huge gun from the back of his jeans. It's a fancy weapon, something that a collector would keep in a glass case, so it's probably fully loaded due to lack of use. He doesn't come off as the type of guy who would look for trouble or fire a loud and dramatic weapon quite like that.

And while he is primed and ready to attack whatever body comes around the corner, Regina creeps up behind him and whispers, "Put that thing away before you hurt yourself. Or me."

"You had  _your_  gun," he whispers harshly back while Regina pushes his forearm down, angling the gun toward the floor.

"You are going to want to use your..." she tosses a look to the quiver on his back, the arrows, and fights against the second rolling of her eyes. "... _Sticks_. It's quieter. Unless you want to alert everything in two-mile radius that we're here?"

He steps to the side, pursing his lips in amusement, letting Regina step ahead of him. Ignoring the obvious teasing, she walks ahead slowly, one step at a time until she has to quickly pull weight off the ground because of a loud creak in the floor and she hisses inwardly. He bumps into her back accidentally, not expecting her sudden stop, and he apologises with a squeeze to her shoulder. She almost groans at his gesture, shrugging him away and continuing forward. They tiptoe into the living area, carefully and prepared, ready for anything, but when Regina pops her head around the corner quickly to view the monster that has interrupted their introduction, she is puzzled to see nothing.

The window is smashed, pieces scattered all over the floor, but no zombie.

"That's odd," Robin mutters after noticing the lack of visible danger himself. He walks passed Regina without a care, without a sense of risk about him and she scowls harshly.

"What the hell are you doing?" She hisses from still around the corner, concealing herself from any danger that could potentially be lurking.

"There's nothing in here, it's sa-"

He goes down like a sack of potatoes, and there is a tiny moment, the  _tiniest_ , where she is slightly happy that this thing pounces on him from the corner of the room. For learning purposes, of course; punishment for his recklessness. But when the rotted fleshy arms pushing against him make him slip to the floor, the dead weight kneeling on him and bearing teeth towards Robin's exposed skin, as well as his groaned plead for  _a little help here_ , she jumps into action.

Sighing a strained and ridiculing sigh, she mutters mockingly, "More like Robin Locksley, in need of  _my_  service…"

Regina grips the back of the stained shirt it's wearing, blood and whatever other gunk it has rolled in, and she pulls back hard to release Robin from its weight, gritting her teeth tightly during her efforts. Robin rolls from underneath the chomping teeth, muttering a string of curses along the way.

Regina releases her grasp, letting it drop to the floor and backs away quickly. Unfortunately, she falls over her own feet, allowing gravity to become her worst enemy, and she crashes into the glass coffee table in the centre of the room. She releases a loud yelped sound as soon as she hits the floor, glass slicing her anywhere it touches her skin.

Robin appears to come to his senses and tackles the beast away, a small knife in his hand as he penetrates its skull violently; it pops loudly throughout the room, the skull is crushed and the now truly lifeless body ceases to move, dropping to the floor next to the couch, collapsing atop the broken glass from the window, as well as the now destroyed coffee table.

"They are getting smarter," Robin complains, his breath hitching and choking as she's sprawled on the floor, visibly in pain. "Milady, you're injured."

Robin offers his arm to lift her off the floor. She wants to take it, even lifts her own arm to take it with a delicious quip on her tongue about his use of _milady_ , but it's forced back down into the depths of her sass when a sharp pain rips through her side. She twists as much as she can and catches the glimmer of the shard of glass sticking out from her hip.

" _Fuck_ ," she groans, her teeth gritting firmly for a moment before she puffs out a shuddered, pained breath. It's taking all she can to keep the threatening tears from falling.

It's a pain like no other. Although in a way, she welcomes it. After months of limited interaction with anyone and the horrifically repetitive routine, pain reminds her that she is alive. It gives her a sliver of something to latch onto, to motivate her to fight harder, but that state of mind lasts all of five seconds until she listing off a string of rather decorative expletives, adjusting her weight on the floor to the position of least pain.

"What can I do?" Robin asks, dropping his weapon to the floor - a huge mistake in this life; weapons in hand at all times, but she can let it slide this once.

Gritting her teeth again, she clenches her face and stutters, "You have to pull it out."

Any reality medical show or emergency room documentary she remembers watching always explicitly said to never remove the blade from a stab wound if possible, but that logic is abandoned - Robin Locksley was just promoted to Dr Locksley and he is going to do this for her. Luckily, he agrees and doesn't fight her on the suggestion, dropping his knees to the floor to get a better look at the situation. The glass doesn't look like it'll snap when extracted, a sparkle of good news for a change. 

"We certainly need to remove this," he explains softly, "But I'm not qualified. I could do it all wrong and kill you, or I could miss a piece of glass and you could die of infection."

"I don't exactly have a plethora of options now, do I?" 

 _Shit_ , it hurts.

"A man I'm travelling with, David," Robin tells her as he stands to his feet, his weapon and arrows in hand again, "He's a vet. He is better and this kind of thing."

"No. It's fine, just grab the glass and pull."

"Look, it's not the best-"

"Don't chicken out on me, Locksley. I'm the one who's impaled." Her eyes scrunch closed when her weight shifts again, and she opens them to a more softened gaze.

"Alright," he looks at the intruding glass once more, but instead of removing it, he stands suddenly, muttering, "Wait here."

She is at the point in her life where eye rolls are uncontrollable, "As if I'm going to go for a run."

He returns with towels, a blessing that he found ones that look even close to clean, a bottle of vodka and some bandaging - he's prepared, she'll give him that. Settling back down on the floor, Robin eyes the glass a final time. He tells her that it's going to hurt... of course it will.

"So, where are you from?" Robin asks as he grips tightly around the shard, clearly an attempt to distract her.

She ignores his offer of conversation, bracing herself, making tight fists and breathes, "No distracting, just do it."

He rips the shard from her side and it's hell. Unadulterated, raw, debilitating pain shooting everywhere and anywhere. She feels like she is being torn in half, her yelp and hissing expressing just that. She doesn't notice right away, but Robin is hushing her delicately while dousing the open wound with alcohol, catching all the free-falling blood he can with the towels.

She calms after twenty seconds or so, her frantic intakes of breath slowing down into laboured, shallow breaths while Robin wraps the bandage around her middle.

"You never told me your name," Robin attempts to distract her again, but this time she appeases him.

"I didn't," she groans, rolling her head back and hissing sharply in through her nose. "I don't do names."

"Why not?" Robin is securing the bandage tightly, but politely meeting her eyes, letting her know he's paying attention.

"Names mean you get attached."

"That's extremely isolating," he says. It's a sympathetic statement, easily detected by the higher pitch of his voice and how his movements falter so he can stare her dead in the face.

"It makes it easier when I have to kill you," Regina shrugs, avoiding his eye contact, but she senses his reaction loud and clear. He thinks it's a joke and is a jump away from laughing, but her eyes dart up to latch onto his again and relay just how serious she is. "I also don't share my life story, nor do I want to hear yours."

After abandoning his effort to get to know her, she relaxes, only wincing every so often when she twists the wrong way or Robin places pressure on a sore spot. "Please let David look at that."

Once again, she declines his offer, muttering a harsh  _I'm fine_ , full of frustration at the nagging that she has very little tolerance for.

"Alright," Robin stands, slapping his hands on his thigh and walks to the doorway. He doesn't leave though, instead, he turns with a smug smirk on his face and watches as she struggles to stand up. She attempts a number of times to find a position that will ease the pain on the way to her feet.

"You're an ass," her whine is responded to with an alarmingly bright chuckle.

"A simple thank you would suffice," he smirks, walking back over to her, and he carefully cradles her body into a standing position. His hands hover a little until she is firmly standing without his aid. "I refuse to leave you alone. You're hurt."

"You don't know me, why do you even care?" Regina asks, still gathered safely with his arms around her, even without being touched.

"Look, one night," he begins to bargain, stepping back to give the space she is silently asking for. "Spend one night with us, if for nothing other than my own conscience. And if tomorrow you want to go back to your isolated lifestyle, I won't say a word."

Her gut is screaming no. Then again, the still excruciating pain throbbing in her side is saying that it might be worth being looked at by someone with something closely related to a medical degree. She groans heavily, loathes to give into his dimpled cheeks and accent that she can't decide is soothing or annoying: "My bag is upstairs."

"I'll get it for you," he offers, "Uh...You know you'll have to give me a name to call you. Think of something while I'm upstairs."

Robin smacks his hands together, rubbing them slightly before holding onto her elbow gently, helping her walk slowly towards the front door. Then he sprints around the place, upstairs for her things, then back into the kitchen for his stolen items. 

"Aren't you going to help me?" She complains as he sneaks passed her and out the front door. 

She's still hurting terribly and needs an arm to keep her upright, whether she's willing to admit it or not.

"Your majesty it is then" Robin chuckles, bracing some of her weight across his arm, hoisting her down the desolate street gently.

* * *

Their camp is minimal but practical, and the  _us_ Robin referred to was actually a small group of people, not just his vet friend.

Just off the highway, tents are spread out, and Robin has to help her climb over a contraption of wire and cans; nothing would get passed that genius idea (not that she'll never admit it to his face). There are children, she can hear them in the distance, and there's a sense of innocence that could only be provided by the presence of a young one.

She meets David first, and she can appreciate the way he swoops in to tend to her wound without a question asked. It turns out that Robin did a top notch job caring for it the way he did, but not without a single scolding from David about how Robin shouldn't have even thought about removing the glass without consulting him first.

Regina has to bury a chuckle at the bickering, at the constant back and forth between these two men who clearly get along and trust each other wholeheartedly - a careless move in her opinion. By caring so much, they give the outbreak more power than it deserves.

"Where did you come from?" David asks, taping the bandage to her torso after a thorough inspection.

"California," Regina tells him, information that can't be used against her, "Boston, originally."

"And now you're in Tennessee?" David questions, and for whatever reason, Regina doesn't mind indulging.

"I am moving slowly. It's not as if we have anything to rush for."

"Fair enough."

David finishes up tending to her, and she thanks him politely. She can tell by the way she can sit up that David did a better job than she could have ever done by herself.

In these times, any loud noise will startle you; when all you know is silence and even more silent silence, you will jump out of your skin at the smallest sound. That's why she groans in pain when a cheerful shriek tears through camp, followed by a  screeched and excited  _Papa_  just ahead of her.

"Who is Robin with?" Regina asks. He's a good twenty feet away, a younger boy in his arms. They are smiling, giggling, Robin's face dripping with pride.

"His son, Roland," David helps her up with a delicate yank on her arm. "You're going to want to rest up over the next few days. I'm sure Robin will find you somewhere to sleep."

"I don't need any of you to do any more for me." She's already straightening out her trousers and adjusting the way her jacket is sitting at the front. "Robin didn't mention he had a son."

"Well, you didn't even tell him your name," a younger male voice sasses from behind her. She turns slowly, with care, aware of her wound, and he's barely a teenager. There's a menacing smirk on his face that she wants to challenge, but it's far too amusing. "Henry," he introduces himself, arm stretched out. She grips his hand, shaking lightly along with a curt nod, but she won't disclose her identity and Henry seems to be okay accepting that.

"Anyway, I should be heading back. I don't want to be travelling as it turns dark."

Regina struggles to pick up her backpack from the ground, and Robin slides into view, lifting it for her and pulling it away.

"Not a chance, milady. You are staying here," Robin butts in, his young son balanced on his hip. "Isn't that right, men?" Henry agrees, as does David and little Roland; he can't be more than five or six, but he nods excitedly. "Just until you can actually move," Robin amends within reason.

She knows that they can't keep her here, that she could grab her bag and run like the wind... though not without tearing open David's handy work on his side. She'd sprint for four seconds, be bleeding again and Robin's infuriating accent will be scolding her with an  _I told you so_. To be honest, she doesn't know what worse, letting Robin have his three seconds of smugness or let them think that she needs them and accept their offer.

 _Ugh_. She groans into a tight fist and swallows back nausea she's been experiencing since her injury. Four sets of eyes are trained on her and she can just sense how persisting this lot are going to be, so she abandons every single rule she has and gives in.

"Fine," she groans.

Henry slaps his hands together with a tight-lipped smile, "Welcome to Operation Wild Heart."

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

_"Five more minutes," Regina hummed into Daniel's chest, then groaned against the same spot, letting it vibrate through his torso._

_That stupid alarm was blaring loudly, a stressed, panicked voice of a radio host infiltrating their bedroom in the early morning, but Regina couldn't focus on the content of the conversation. She was too deep in a young when Daniel reached over her to switch the blasting noise off. And they_ _held each other closely for five more minutes, just like they always did._

_It was their time. Regina could skim her fingertips along the soft skin above his briefs, or she could just listen to the muffled heartbeat that would reach her ear through his chest and a plain t-shirt. He always wore a shirt. He was practically an ice bucket at night, even if she was there the entire time curled up against his side, so he had to opt for the extra layer to keep him from waking up with shivering chills._

_Their morning continued as usual for the most part. What started off as Daniel's separate shower became a shared one; an adventure of soft touches and indulging. And later in the kitchen, Daniel made the coffee while she turned the eggs. Their life was so beautifully domestic. She loved it, and not just because it riled up her mother to no end, but because it was their beautiful, domestic life. And nothing could touch it, not anymore._

_At least that's what she thought..._

_The sirens came out of nowhere, the sheer sound of it alone startled her heart, making it beat faster. She immediately caught Daniel's eyes and they waited for a beat, thinking that it might have stopped._

_"Don't they sound those for severe weather?" Daniel asked, dropping his fork on the edge of his plate, letting it clink loudly. She was startled by the unexpected clatter, and a tingling sense of fright made its way from her gut up through her chest._

_Something wasn't right._

_They both stared the kitchen window and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, only a bright blue blanket ready for a warm day for everyone to enjoy._

_"Maybe it's a mistake?" Regina queried._

_Hand in hand, they wandered out into the front yard, curiosity their guide, and when they reach the end of their mowed lawn they share confused looks with their neighbours. Many were covering their ears, Regina included because the sirens were loud and were causing a ringing in her ears. Her face was scrunched up, hoping that the sound would stop when Daniel gripped tightly on her shoulders and started pulling her backwards, telling her to "get inside."_

_She turned to face him, new to the tone of his voice, but then he pointed out in front and Regina caught a glimpse of what he had seen. She tensed and stepped back into him, not feeling the usual wave of comfort that usually warms her chest when her back is pressed up against him._

_As more and more people noticed the fearful sight, commotion picked up: families started racing back into their homes, voiced started questioning from every direction as chaos erupted around them. People were yelling about things on the news, talking about a viral outbreak, the undead walking, cannibalism - all the things that should have stolen Regina's immediate attention, but she couldn't stop looking straight ahead, locking eyes with the creature that would change the world._

The little girl was limping down the middle of the road. She shouldn't have been there. She should have been on her way to school, laughing with her friends on the school bus and comparing lunch boxes. Instead, this small child was drenched in a deep, dark red. Some parts of her white shirt were brown, oxidation already taken its toll. One side of her hair was completely matted to her cheek, her skin a hint of blue. Her teeth were clenched as she walked on a broken leg as if it was nothing, her tibia pierced through the skin.

 _Regina could have stared for days. But the screaming around her pulled her attention away. They were surrounded by horrifying beings sneaking up from backyards and all directions; neutral faces, lifeless skin, cuts_ _bruises, blood, and merciless attacking and--_

"You know," Robin's voice startles her from the memory she wishes she could forget. "For someone so reluctant to stay with us, you are making yourself rather comfortable, milady."

It's her third day in their camp. Three long days of awkward conversations and deafening silent spells. She can't wait to return back to her individualist lifestyle, her new normal. But after David expressed genuine concern about her injury, she accepted that she needed to put aside her personal preferences and consider her health. As much as she hates to admit it, David's right - she's hardly got any chance of survival if she can't make a run for it or fight. As much as she loathes it all, she needs to be with other people right now.

And there's four of them. Four boys, and she means that,  _boys_. David and Robin are just as silly and childish as the two younger of their little crew. She wishes she didn't enjoy their company so much. Robin and David are actually quite funny; she's had to force down bubbles of laughter on more than one occasion when the childish bickering starts. 

Little Roland is just the cutest with dimples that could talk anyone into anything, and he knows it too, which arguably makes it so much more adorable. He's been a little glimmer of something that she's always craved. Childre brings about a sense of magic, no matter the circumstances, and it's a magnificent feeling. And then there's Henry, such a smart boy with a heart far too big for the size of his body. She's bonded with him the most with small chatters of their favourite novels and his general kindness. 

Despite her best efforts, relationships are being formed, as little as they may be. And it's exactly what she's spent months trying to avoid. With every day that passes, the impending goodbye grows stronger and weighs heavily on her shoulders.

Robin's hovering high above her casting a shadow on her face as she is laying on the cool ground, flat on her back. Soaking up the sun seemed like a good way to pass the time. She opens one eye slightly, affirming her suspicion that his smug comment would be mirrored by the folding of his arms along with that stupid dimpled grin on his face. She huffs out a sigh, sassing back, "You're the one who told me to rest, aren't you?"

His eyebrow raises. Since the moment they met, he's appreciated her small challenging statements. And of course, he drops his weight next to her because he is incapable of recognising when she wants to be left alone. 

"That I did," he agrees, then asks, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I fell into a glass table," she replies, enjoying all too much the amused scoff that reaches her ears. Though, she feels the need to appease his unnecessary concern, so she breathes a simple, "I'm fine."

"You like that phrase all too much, milady."

Not again, she groans, scrunching up her nose. "You have  _got_  to stop calling me that." It's not the usual term of endearment where she's from, but clearly an overused one wherever he comes from. It's not even the term that irks her, it's the identity, it's the bond she's trying so hard to lessen. She'd have been as well telling him to call her Regina.

"You haven't exactly given me many options." Well, he has certainly caught her there. "Did you sleep well, at least?"

She did, surprisingly. Exceptionally well. Robin set up the spare tent on her first night with them. It had been used by a friend who was once with them - WIll, she remembers him mentioning in passing. The blankets are soft and the pillow is one of the most comfortable she's used in a long time. And whether she likes it or not, being around them makes her feel safe; the deep-rooted fear in her bones disappears and she manages to relax for a blessed few hours.

She nods, smiling politely. "David mentioned that you are heading to Boston…"

"We are," he nods, tilting his head. Most likely surprised that she has actually initiated a conversation for once. "Slowly but surely."

Curiosity takes the reigns, and she asks, "What's in Boston?"

Then the tables turn and  _he's_ closing off. His chin dips slightly like there's a secret right on the tip of his tongue but isn't ready to disclose. Which is just typical. The one times she makes an effort to talk, she is shot down and, even worse, now she feels guilty for prying.

"Sorry," Robin croaks, linking his fingers in his lap. "We've been through a lot and there are some things that we need to keep to ourselves for now. It's safer, not just for us, but also for you."

Her interest is peaked, but she drops it, respecting his privacy the way he has been respecting hers, even if he's struggling. Instead, she clicks her tongue and concentrates on the warmth the sun is providing on her skin. They sit together in silence, resting and relaxing before David clears his throat just ahead of them. 

"Would you like me to take a look at your injury again?" He asks. It's been dressed since last night, so checking it out again would be smart. David's been pleased with how it's healing, though. It's been fast and stayed clean; after two days, he was thrilled that infection hasn't rampaged through the sliced skin. 

She nods, leaning up on her elbows, and Regina hisses instinctually at the sharp pain in her side. It's nothing like before, but it's still a dull and annoying pain that makes her heart skip a beat. She didn't even notice that Robin has stood up quickly, and wastes no time before linking his arms under her shoulders to help hoist her upright.

"I had it," she shrugs away from him as much as she can. When David chuckles, she narrows her eyes his way. "Shall we?"

David moves aside to let her pass, and she fights through the annoying, lingering pain with every step over to where has been silently designated as David's medical bay. She lies on the make-shift table and lifts her shirt just under her bra. Her bandage is no longer white in colours, it's stained with the evidence of a night and a morning moseying around the camp.

Robin leaves them to it, he always does. He makes his way over to help Henry and Roland prepare lunch. The boys always help, especially if Roland gets to use the tin opener - it's his favourite - and it's nice to watch something so pleasant when David starts to prod at her side.

"They're good kids," David says, unwrapping the bandage from her middle. Regina hums in agreement, twisting her neck around to concentrate on David's face as he inspects the gash on her side. "Congratulations, I think you're going to be fine. But you still need to take it easy and change the dressing every day. We don't need any infection or tearing, right?"

"Right," she nods, inhaling sharply through her nose when David presses a cold, alcohol soaked rag against her. It's so strong, she can feel her eyes glistening and a burn in the back of her throat, not to mention the sting against her cracked flesh.

"Done," he breathes after taping up her new bandage, and she sits up easily. She hops off the table and adjusts her clothes, pulling her shirt back down. David is standing awkwardly behind her, and nudges against her shoulder. "I don't know where you're heading, but you're welcome to tag along with--"

"I have plans," Regina deadpans. The offer is appreciated, it really is. Just the very notion that there is a sliver of kindness somewhere in this darkness is appreciated. But she's played it over and over in her head, Robin only asked her here to clear his own conscience and it's in everyone's best interest that she leaves soon. "Besides, I've overstayed my welcome."

"If that's what you need to tell yourself," David shrugs, entertaining her with a single laugh through his nose. 

"He only brought me here because it's his fault I was hurt," she answers honestly. 

His single laugh becomes a string of others, and he very serious steps in closer and tells her, "You really don't know him at all."

"No, I don't. And I want to keep it that way."

He perches on his little table, and asks, "If this were before. Before the virus, before the undead... would you have left a wounded woman on the side of the road?"

Of course not, she would have stopped. "No," she says quickly, shocked that he'd asked her something like that. She would have helped, she would have  _acted_.

And then David's point slaps her like a brick to the face. Robin's invite wasn't anything to do with guilt or his conscience. He was just a decent guy doing a decent thing, and she's so accustomed to a life with limited humanity that she couldn't even take a second to see it.

"Robin refuses to let go of humanity even when the world around us doesn't share the same idea," David tells her with a self-satisfying grin, one she wants to smack off his face. But she allows him his smirk because, even though she doesn't like it, he just shifted something in her.

Regina hasn't believed in nobility or honour in months, but Robin Locksley might just prove her wrong.

* * *

Henry and Regina are by the small campfire, surrounded by rows and rows of water bottles on the ground. The water in each bottle varies in colour - some are as clear as day and others can only be described as something close to a health hazard. Those with clear water have names scribbled on them: Robin, David, Henry, and Roland. One for each of them.

"What are you doing?" She asks, drawing Henry's attention from the small notebook he's scribbling in.

"I'm recording our water supply," Henry explains, plonking his weight down next to her on the ground. He shows her the book and she can't make sense of the markings. "It was David's idea," Henry adds. "This way we know how much we have and know when we need to really start looking for more and..."

Henry pulls back a bit as if he was caught doing something he should. "And what?" Regina asks. 

He clears his throat and looks around before leaning in close to her. "David likes to know that Robin's drinking enough water. And all of us. Because, you know, he's a doctor and stuff."

Regina quirks an eyebrow, teasing, "He's a  _vet_." Releasing a tense breath, Henry chuckles with her, settling slightly more comfortably next to her again, but she has to ask: "Robin wasn't drinking enough water?"

Henry sighs solemnly, looking around again for any lingering ears, and whispers his story. "There used to be a lot more of us, but we were separated. We lost a lot of important people and supplies. It was just the four of us, and a couple of days later Robin collapsed during a move and that's when David realised he'd stopped drinking water completely." Regina listens intently to his heartbreaking tale. "He wanted to make sure there was enough for us,"

"Jesus," Regina breathes, reaching for Henry's forearm and squeezing. "Why would he do something so stupid?"

"That's just Robin," Henry frowns slightly. "It wasn't stupid to him. Robin's the closest I've had to a father ever in my life, and after my mom..." Henry pulls back a bit again and shakes away from the conversation. "Robin has a code and he sticks by it."

They're interrupted by the sound of two little legs skipping towards them, happily greeting them with a  _hello_ and swings his arms back and forth. "I have to help Henry."

"Sure," Henry exclaims, a sweet exchange between boys that have become close in the worst of times. Henry gives Roland his notebook and stands up.

"Papa says I have to ask how you are feeling _and_ to call you milady," Roland smiles sweetly, rocking back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, and Regina can't help but bite her lip during a sweet grin despite her annoyance at the name.

"Your papa is silly," she teases the little boy, reaching over to hold his hands in hers. Robin is edging closer to them from the tents. "But, I am feeling much better. Thank you for asking."

Roland smiles that dimpled grin - a wide thing that could make anyone's day brighter than the sun - before he drops her hands and heads to help Henry count through the scattered water bottles on the ground.

When Robin reaches her, he joins her seated on the ground and they watch the boys as they count loudly. "There is a stream a mile or so south of camp, would you like to join me to fill up on water?"

She almost says _no_ right away, but she's suddenly very interested in the man who wants to salvage humanity and about this mysterious code he apparently lives by and his mysterious code. That alone makes agree to join him. She stands up, even takes his offered hand without so much as an eye-roll this time, and helps him gather all the water bottles into two large duffel bags.

Henry gives her a bottle after they'd zipped up the bag, and he nods his head down at it so she'd look. The water bottle has a large sharpie-d question mark on it. "I know how much you hate milady," he says, and Regina laughs sharply through her nose.

"Thank you," she says and stares at the gifted bottle.

It's the first thing she has been given in what feels like forever, and that question mark decorated on the plastic hits far too close to home, reminding her just how lost and unsure she really is.

* * *

"I'm glad you're healing well," Robin offers as a simple conversation starter on their trek.

"Thanks," she nods as they walk side by side, lugging their large duffel backs on their shoulders. "So am I."

"And, I've been wondering something."

They step over a large fallen log, Regina happy she managed to without any pain in her side. "Oh?" 

"What is this isolation game you're playing? I almost had to drag you by the hair to get medical treatment," he notes, picking up the pace, one that she's struggling to keep up with. "Is it because I frustrate you so much?"

He asked teasingly, but she still bites, "You don't frustrate me. You're just..." she laughs for lack of a better word, "...infuriating. And it's not a game. I don't know you, I still don't and coming to your camp was a risky move. If I wasn't injured, I wouldn't have come and let's face it, you probably never would have offered."

"I would have," he counters, taking on a very consistent pace, one that she can comfortably keep up with now.

"And that's why you're infuriating," she sighs. "You're a risk taker." Robin's laugh is full of amusement and he shakes his head before staring ahead. And it irks her. "Risks increase your the chance that you'll die," Regina defends, as a matter of fact, one that she will defend for the rest of her life.

"Refusing to take risks can be just as detrimental," Robin retorts sternly, and lord, her scoff is immediate. There isn't enough energy in the world that could have prevented it. "What?"

Sighing cynically, she shrugs the duffel bag higher on her shoulder, closer to the curve of the neck. "You remind me of someone. He was carelessly optimistic and a risk taker."

"He sounds like a decent person," he says nonchalantly

"Yeah, well he died. He did something reckless. He took a risk and now he's dead."

Regina never intended for it to come off quite as harsh, but it does, and the conversation dies with her comment. Robin doesn't say another word, she barely hears him breathe anymore as they continue forward, but she _can_ hear the running stream off in the distance now. 

"David said you have a plan. Where were you heading?"

"It doesn't matter," she says. "Not anymore."

"Sure it does." Robin stops just shy of the steam but stops in front of her and turns. 

* * *

  _They'd been on the move for five days. At first, they would constantly bump into scared and confused strangers as they all tried to make sense of the madness around. After those days of unexpected attacks, deaths and desperately made decisions, she and Daniel hadn't seen a living person for almost twelve hours._

_Daniel was stuffing their belongings into the backpack he just found by the side of the road. It was empty and seemingly tossed for no good reason. Regina left him to it and she stood on the edge of the highway, looking from left to right as she tried to ignore the car that had decided to give up running on fumes. It died. Just died and left them stranded in the middle of Arizona somewhere._

_"Regina, can you take everything we need from the glovebox?" Daniel called out as he was leaning far into the trunk._

_She sighed heavily, something she had been doing quite a lot by that point. Every time, the sigh became more anchored by the fear of the unknown and a feeling of desolate uselessness._

_Wordlessly, she swung over the passenger door and dropped the glovebox open. There were two weapons inside, the ones that they just came across on their journey, because that was normal. They brought their passports - useless. Car insurance and registration, completely useless. They're just reminders of the life they'll never live again. She clicked her tongue bitterly, reaching for the map that they bought years ago for all the trips they never got around to taking._

_Daniel thanked her, taking the guns from her hands and holstered one in her jeans, offering Regina the other. She refused. Again. Just like she had three hours before, and yesterday, and the day before that._

_She folded the map hastily, turning from Daniel and stepping back to the edge of the road._

_"Regina," Daniel said softly, in that caring voice that has been driving her crazy lately more than anything._

_"Let's just go, okay?"_

_She started to walk confidently on the highway and Daniel followed quickly with all of the bags hanging from his shoulders._

_"Regina, wait," Daniel pleaded, reaching for her shoulder, and she did but she avoided his eyes completely. It's not that she was mad at him, she was furious at the situation and in her desperate attempt to not let their relationship suffer, she had ended up tearing it apart._ _"We will get through this," he told her sincerely. It'd become his motto._

_"Will we?" Regina scoffed, staring down at the hot concrete. "We haven't got a plan, Daniel. We have no idea where we are going, everyone is dead."_

_"We don't know that," Daniel disagreed, always the optimist, always trying to keep her calm. He reached for the map in her hands and opened it up wide; it was massive. Daniel's entire arm span was needed to hold it open, the entire country on show with every lake and small farm road detailed on the paper. As a small grin curved up his cheeks, he said, "Close your eyes."_

_"What?"_

_"Trust me, close your eyes," Daniel persisted, waiting until she did after a slightly amused quirk of her eyebrow. As her vision went black, she heard the rustling of the map in front of her, and Daniel explained, "Keep them closed, stick out your finger and pick somewhere."_

_"Daniel-" Regina sighed, disheartened, unable to see the point in his games._

_"Babe, just do it," Daniel laughed, his chuckle sparking familiarity of the life they were living not even a week ago. The surge of warmth that the familiarity provided gave her the strength and energy to point straight ahead of her, running_ _her fingertips against the coarse paper of the map._

_"I want to go to the East Coast," Regina said softly, moving her finger to the right. "Tell me if I hit the Atlantic," she smirked._

_"Stop," Daniel told her, and she stopped moving her finger. "Any further and we'll need a boat."_

_Regina took a second to decide north or south, and eventually decides on North, slowly raising her finger, tracing what she imagined the edge of the country to look like, until she felt it in her bones, in her soul, that she should stop._

_"There."_

_Her eyes remained closed while Daniel rustled the map to look at her chosen destination. He didn't tell her right away, instead, she felt his warm but slightly chapped lips upon her own - a soft and delicate kiss. It's comforting more than anything else, helping her open her eyes and look at him._

_"Let's go," he smiled, taking her hand in his after shoving the map in the front pouch of his new bag._

_She squeezed into the grip they had on each other. "Where are we going?"_

_"Storybrooke, Maine."_

* * *

 "Storybrooke?" Robin asks, probably amused with the name. She knows she was. "Do you have family there?"

She shakes her head, blurting out that, "we just picked it," and she tenses. One small walk with him and suddenly she's spilling her guts. "It's nowhere special."

"Alright," he says, clearly not believing her. "Because tomorrow is moving day, and I want to extend an invitation to join us."

"Moving day?" She asks, dumping her bag down by the stream and kneeling down to start filling the bottles - the water is surprisingly clean, crisp and clear.

Robin is filling up too. "We don't stay in one place for more than five days. It keeps us from getting too comfortable in one place and keeps us moving."

"To Boston," she understands. "What's there?"

"It's nothing," he twists the cap closed on a full bottle. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with anyway."

It's the second time that he hasn't been willingly open and honest with her, which is exactly how she's acting with him, but at least she doesn't yo-yo quite so drastically. Boston must be a real hot topic if it's the one this that makes him put up a wall so quickly, so she accepts it... for now. 

"Survival relies on our movement," Robin tells her. "We can't travel too much because we can't be tired, but if we stay in one place for too long, we could be found."

"Smart."

They've filled all the bottles now, and Regina is attempting to find a comfortable way to carry them. All of this weight hanging from a thing strap across her shoulders will just be painful, so she lifts the body of the duffel into her arms. Robin copies her and they walk back to the camp, Regina leading the way.

David and Robin really secured the place with little homemade contraptions: tins on a wire to wrap around the trees, if any zombie stumbles upon them, they can't do so quietly. "Are you never tempted to stay put? You're obviously safe here." She hops over their clinking contraption, failing to miss it with her boot. Henry and Roland stand abruptly just ahead of them, and she apologises before turning back to Robin. "There's no way anything is getting past that."

"True," Robin takes her compliment proudly. "But the undead aren't the only things we fear out here. And so far we've found the living to be a lot more dangerous."

"Do you mean those guys on horses that I pass every so often?" She hasn't seen them in a while, but she's always felt uneasy when she catches a glimpse of them in the distance. They're militaristic almost and certainly nothing she wants to concern herself with. "What's the deal with them?"

Clearly agitated, Robin grunts as he drops the duffel bag, and she does the same, stretching her arms out and back in to relieve the dull ache. "Believe me, they're nothing compared to the man in charge of those horsemen. Alistair Gold."

The name has her attention and she snaps her head up, doing a mental double take. "Wait, did you just say Alistair Gold?"

He's a man she hasn't thought about in years, a man she would prefer to never cross paths with again. He was the common denominator in a lot of her childhood memories, and definitely not for a good reason. Robin can't be talking of the same man, it would be far too much of a coincidence...

"Do you know him?" He seems shocked, desperate almost as they begin to piece everything out.

"I knew a man once," she perches her hands on her lips and tries to remember. "A long time ago, but my mother always spoke about him. He was thin with a strange accent.. and a limp. And if he was in my mother's circle of peers, he probably had a bit of a power complex."

"That's him," Robin grits his teeth, suddenly angry just at the mention of Gold. 

Regina tries to think about what the connection could be here, but it's clear almost immediately. In fact, it makes perfect sense. If anyone was going to band together with a horde of horsemen during the zombie apocalypse, Gold would be that person. And what better situation than a viral outbreak that caused the fallout of all governments and military. 

"He is despicable. These pricks march around stealing supplies and separating families. They lure you in and brainwash you to follow him. I need to know, is there any way he followed you here?".

"I don't think so..." she can't pinpoint the last time she ever saw him, not clearly. "I haven't seen him since I was maybe, seventeen. My mother was in politics and they worked together a lot. I know Gold and his son moved to Chicago just before I left for college and I haven't heard about him since. Not until now," she sighs, folding her arms. "This is a dreadful coincidence, right?"

Robin gently grips at her elbow and pulls her away from the camp, behind a tall tree. "I need you to tell me the truth."

He's pleading with her. And there's something in his eyes, something painful. "I am. I swear." It's interesting how much her tune changes in a split second because she feels the need to comfort him, but she won't. She keeps her arms firmly crossed in front of her, shielding herself from the cold. But there's something going on behind his eyes and she asks, "Tell me."

It's barely a whisper, "Gold has Henry's mother." He looks around, checking for any curious children. "He took her. He's using her as leverage."

"Leverage for what?" Regina asks, narrowing her eyes, then also doing a quick look around for Henry. "Gold was a dealmaker. You must have something incredibly valuable to have pinged on his radar. Especially the radar that merits having leverage."

* * *

  _The had ambushed them late at night, and if it weren't for David, there never would have been enough time to flee. But even with the extra time, it was still no use. There were far too many people yelling for Henry to be given to the masked men, yelling about all the acts they'd commit if they weren't obeyed._

_Robin and Emma were running side by side, Roland tucked in Robin's arms while Henry was pulled by Emma's hand to keep up. They knew. They all knew that Henry wasn't getting out without a distraction and they stopped by a collection of large tree trunks, catching their breath and being extra alert._

_Robin sighed heavily, pressing a kiss against Roland's mopped curls and began to pass him to Emma._

_She looked startled and pushed the young boy back. "What are you doing?" She whispered._

_"One of us has to create a distraction or we are all better off dead." Robin hated that this was their only option, but in that moment it was the only plan they had._

  _"You're right," Emma nodded tearfully, placing a hand on Roland's back. "And that person will be me," Emma said in whispered sincerity._

_"Mom, no," Henry mumbled, clutching onto her red leather jacket, and Robin watched as Emma bent the little bit she needed to to press her forehead to Henry's._

_"Henry, I have to."_

_Robin hugged Roland tightly, racking his brain for anything better than her idea. He should be the one to go, he knew that. "They will take you and use you like a bargaining chip, Em."_ _They had bumped into Gold a number of times now. They're well aware of his deals and games. "They will do unspeakable things to you-"_

 _"You have to be with them. Roland needs you. Henry needs you. You have treated him like a son for months," Emma interrupted. She wasn't going to back down. "You will be able to keep them safe much more than I will. You are better at this than me."_ _Robin wanted to argue, wanted to take her place, but Emma was as stubborn as she was brave and there was no changing her mind. "I don't think I can get him to Boston by myself, so let me do this to make sure that you can. Go. And keep them safe."_

_"You have my word," he told her albeit reluctantly, but it was a promise in his heart, stronger than the words he spoke._

_Henry was seconds from sobbing and begged Emma to stay with them. He promised that they'd figure it out. He begged for her the way any son would beg for his mother to stay._

_"Hey," Emma hushed, brushing hair out of Henry's face, "You have been the one saying from the beginning of our journey that we all have to be heroes," Henry nodded. "Well, sometimes being the hero means making tough decisions. Go with Robin, stay safe. Get to Boston."_

_The footsteps and horses were approaching and burst the small bubble they'd created. Emma had to start quickly saying her final goodbyes. She hugged Henry the longest, kissed his forehead. Roland was understandably terrified and refused to lift his head from Robin's neck, but Emma kissed the back of his anyway, whispering, "Bye, Roland." And once her attention was finally Robin's, they shared a quick embrace and Emma whispered an excruciatingly gutwrenching, "No matter what happens, no matter what you hear... don't you dare turn back."_

  _She pulled away and hugged Henry one last time and like ripping off a band-aid, she pried herself from her son and ran towards the danger. She yelled and created the distraction they needed to slip away, and they did. They ran for miles. They didn't stop, they never stopped, not until the sun began to rise in the East._

* * *

"He wants Henry," Robin confesses quietly. "Emma sacrificed herself to keep Henry safe."

She doesn't remember much about Alistair Gold. But she remembers that he never takes a situation lightly. He's meticulous and always has a reason for the things he does, even if they are evil and downright wrong. If he's willing to go to these lengths, she has to know, "Why does he want Henry?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't _matter_?" she scoffs. "I've been in your camp for three days and there's clearly something dangerous going on. You don't know much about me but you do know that all I care about is being safe. You should have never brought me here in the first place and now you can't even do me the decency of telling me why I should be scared." She knows he's thrown by her outburst, she knew before he even opened his mouth to try and find words. "It does matter. As horrific as he is, Gold is smart, and he wouldn't go  _after_ a person unless he feels like he has to. What did Henry do?"

Robin's eyebrows are practically on his hairline. "I'm... I should have never brought you here."

"Oh, shut  _up_ ," Regina rolls her eyes and smacks firmly against her shoulder. "Will you just tell me? Please."

"Gold is threatened by Henry. You said he had a power complex," Regina nods, "Well, you're correct, and Henry could take that away from him." The ambiguity is killing her. It's a hole that Robin keeps digging deeper and deeper everytime he opens his mouth. "We keep moving so that they can't track us. Emma gave herself up so that I could get him to Boston, and that's what I plan on doing."

 "What's in Boston?" She asks again and waits. " _Robin._ "

"Will you come with us?" He asks. "Once we're there, you can continue on to Storybrooke, but will you come with us as far as Boston?" He's desperate and pleading with her, eager for any commitment she's willing to offer. "If you want to know why we're going to Boston, I need to trust you. And if you want me to trust you I need you to be willing to help us."

She's on a fence, the decision to stay or to go on either side, and fear is the force swinging her back and forth. And fear, well, it's a funny thing. It has the tendency to lead her astray when instinct is screaming at her in the face.

She should grab her backpack and run, that's what her instincts are telling her to do, but there's something else anchoring her to the forest floor. Maybe it's the way Robin's eyes are pleading with her, but it's as if now she realises that the only way to conquer her fear is to live a dangerous life; a life of risk and optimism.  

She's about to redefine her entire life, about to embark on something that might as well be the equivalent of staring her worries and fears directly in the face: "Yes," she commits. "I'll come with you."

 


	3. Chapter 3

She's standing there. In the exact same spot she had just tentatively (she's even still unsure) breathed her commitment to their group and he's staring at her, not a single word was spoken, only deep shallow breaths from their chests. As much as she is curious about the secret among the boys, she wonders if she was too quick to pledge herself to them.

His blue eyes are darting to the earth's floor and back to her. The sun still tall above them, they've still a number of hours or so before it's dark, his earlier statement being nothing more than a distraction. The glowing, bright beam of the day's sunlight is streaming across his conflicted, contemplating face.

"I can't…" He strains, his slumped shoulders rising into a shrug and falling far again. She's seconds from a groan and probably an accompanying eye roll, but he slips back in, "Come on." Slumping the bag back over his shoulder, Robin makes his way to camp, so she's feeling rightfully thrown all of a sudden. She was expecting an informative confession and instead he is walking away.

"Where the hell are you going?" She calls out to him, loud enough to be heard but sensibly quiet given they are out in the open.

"To Henry," Robin replies, but doesn't give a second to stop and turn back, he continues on, leaving her to pick up her own heavy bag and shuffle quickly towards camp along with him. She never does fully catch up with him, and he abandons his duffel next to where David and Roland are gathered around the small fire in the centre. He is collecting Henry and ushering the teen into his tent, hushed voices filtering through the fabric that protects them from the weather.

"What's going on?" David asks, offering a helping hand to take Regina's bag from her. Together they lay it on the ground, next to where Robin dumped his.

"I've agreed to join you all on your… _quest_ ," Regina mutters, stretching her arms in front of her in a delicious stretch, soothing the aches in her muscles, especially the one that is in her right shoulder. David nods his head kindly, and she notices that he is now fully aware of the gossip that is occurring inside the tent and asks, "Care to clue me in?"

"It's Henry's life. It's only fair that he tell you his story, not us," David relays sympathetically, appreciating that everything is only bewildering Regina more and more. The tent zips open again on her left and they emerge from within, Henry a shade paler that she is used to, nerves trembling only ever so slightly in his hands.

"Can we talk?" Henry asks, showing her a half-hearted, worried smile, the complete opposite of any expression she has seen from him before. Regina nods, returning a small smile, and waits patiently for the others to clear out. Robin picks up Roland, mumbling something to him, most likely any small reasoning for the shift in seating.

As Robin passes Regina, he squeezes her shoulder and it hits her like a brick wall - one that she has launched herself into. It's supposed to be comforting, she completely understands that, but it carries much more meaning for her than he could ever comprehend. It ends suddenly, although not without leaving her reeling in an emotion that she hasn't experienced in a long while; she feels cared for, important, another living person considered her feelings for a moment. She clears her throat loudly and focusses her sight on Henry, a pathetic attempt at ridding herself of the unexpected response to Robin's touch. All while, Henry's moved to stand by the dying fire, pacing, dare she say hesitant? Even skittish?

Her body meets the solid dirt, she crosses her legs and looks up to him. It wasn't intentional, but she does wonder if appearing below him will make him less timid, but it doesn't. Not even close. He continues to shuffle his feet as he aimlessly paces, the words almost reaching his lips but then burying deep back inside.

"You don't have to tell me," Regina stands up again, hating the way she is making his mind turn and somersault.

"I want to," Henry huffs finally, dropping his arms weightlessly to his sides, "I don't know how to word it though. The last time we told anyone we were betrayed." Regina remembers Robin's story, biting her cheek nimbly and nods her head in understanding, telling him to take his time.

However, it appears that he doesn't need time. But he needs  _something,_ information in return. That becomes apparent when he says, "I'm not going to ask you for your name, but I do have a question."

"Alright, shoot," Regina slaps her hands to her crossed legs, watching while Henry sits across from her.

"Why?" He asks, "Of all things to keep to yourself, why keep your name a secret?"

Now that's quite the question. Luckily for Henry, the answer is something she has thought about often, almost every day; every time a bad memory invades her dreams, every time a smell reminds her of something, every time she walks away from a group of travellers to avoid them completely. However, explaining it to a teenager may not be the easiest of tasks, but she'll sure as hell give it a go if it garners her a small window of trust.

"Have you ever had a crush?" She asks. Henry wasn't expecting the retorting question. He blushes delicately, narrows his eyebrows, and she chuckles when he shakes his head - a lie clearer than a blue Oklahoma sky.

Groaning, but all in good fun, he confesses, "Okay, yes. Violet."

"Violet," she smirks, adding a playful, "That's cute," with a lighthearted wink before steering the conversation back to its final destination. "Do you remember how it feels? When you catch a glimpse of them and your heart skips a beat. The uncontrollable desire. All you want to do is tell them that you  _adore_  everything that they hate about themselves."

"And you want to know everything and anything about them?" Henry asks, chiming in with his own experiences.

"Yes," Regina agrees, happily smiling, "If you multiply that feeling by a thousand, maybe even more… That's what it feels like to be in love."

"You were in love?" Henry asks, scooting closer along the dirt to her side, their knees touching.

Regina nods to answer his question, a sad nod, and the smile that is on her lips fades after only a second or two as it drifts into a neutral expression, then she tells him, "I was. Very much so."

"Did  _he_  know your name?" Henry asks, all too innocently and she grins, soon letting it turn into a snigger.

The snigger follows as she starts laughing through her words, telling him, "Yes. Daniel knew my name. We met in high school and as the years went on we grew closer."

"Is he…" Henry fades off of the question, realising that he may be over stepping. He doesn't even need to finish his question, the answer painted on her face like the most striking painting anyone has ever seen. "I'm sorry," Henry reaches for her fingertips in a gentle squeeze, a quick moment of amenity, a boost to keep her positivity in the majority.

"My mother did not approve of our relationship," she continues, ignoring the tender moment, blinking away pained tears that are threatening to fall, "She did everything in her power to ruin it, to separate us. One day we decided we'd had enough. We packed up everything we thought was important and drove as far as we could, all the way to California. We lost everything. Our friends, families, we had to abandon our memories and childhood to make it work."

"Was it worth it?" Henry asks, fully engrossed in the way she has opened up to him.

"Every second," she breathes, "We had to uproot our entire life to escape my mother and I would do it again and again."

"She sounds like a real piece of work," Henry mutters, pushing his palms into the cool dirt of the ground. "But I'm not sure what any of this has to do with your name?"

 _Ah_ , she realises. He has a point. Abandoning the mystery, "This virus is just like my mother," she explains, choosing her words slowly, carefully, and effectively. "Wild, raging, enough to make you sleep with one eye open. We escaped her grasp, but it wasn't without its loss. When the virus hit, it was like we were back to square one, having to abandon everything we had and not just the physical things. And then when we lost each other, after that I didn't have  _anything_  anymore."

"Nothing but your name," Henry finishes for her in a whisper, coming full circle and reaching an equal understanding.

"My name is the only thing I still have. It's mine," she explains, "And if I don't give it to anyone, they can't take it away from me."

Henry stands suddenly, offering a hand to pull her upright from the ground. She accepts his worthy attempt and lets him help pull her weight from the ground to where she is then standing in front of him quizzically. He unzips his hoodie after he drops her hands until it's open and he removes it quickly, tossing it to the ground. "What if I told you we can get your old life back? Or that we can at least try."

"Henry?" Regina asks, officially lost.

There's a nervousness in his voice but it's also so hopeful, so brimmed with belief and faith. "I need you to promise that you won't freak out," Henry begs, watching her eyes carefully, watching for any hint of a lie when she anxiously agrees, a soft nod of her head, a whispered  _okay_. "And try to be open minded," then he turns around and lifts his shirt halfway up his back.

The speed of her heart increases as she tries to decipher what she's looking at. At first glance it isn't clear, blurry, so she moves closer, reaching out to touch what appears to be a scar, runs her thumb over the small circled collection of-

Wait.

No. Fucking. Way.

Regina pulls her hand away quickly, you'd think she had just been stung by something by the way her limb flinches away from his skin, and she steps back a step or two, "What the hell is that?" This can't be happening, she thinks harshly, it's impossible. Every single person she has seen infected so far, every life that had stolen by a bite, there was only ever one ending. "You've been bitten."

It's pure instinct when she reaches for the gun tucked away in her jeans, gut reaction taking over all control, and surely not one person could blame her. The infection that ruined her life, all of their lives, is staring her in the face. Is he dangerous? Have they tricked her here? Is this part of some sick plan that she is now meddled in?

She does what any responsible survivor would do. She points the gun at him, making Henry pull his shirt down again, his hands raising defensively and he turns, genuinely scared for his life, but he tries to explain, "It's not as bad as it looks."

"Not as bad as it looks?" Regina scoffs, aiming more accurately at the boy. She won't shoot, not yet, a small voice in her head telling her to wait, to be extra sure.

"Uh, Robin! I need your help," Henry yells over in the direction they'd left, and Robin appears quickly, probably having been awaiting a shout for him, but before he can comment on the scene he arrives to, Robin stands between Henry and the end of Regina's barrel.

"Milady," he quietly speaks, soothing, trying to calm her down. His arm is stretched out in front of him, "I know how this all looks. I understand that it might be difficult to comprehend just now." He approaches her slowly, like she is an animal of prey ready to pounce, "Put down the gun and let us explain."

"You promised you wouldn't freak out," Henry murmurs sadly over Robin's shoulder, looking at her with disappointed eyes and that appears to be all it takes for Regina to settle her instincts, to lower the gun away from them, albeit still tentatively.

Tension is thick in the air while her finger is still firmly on the trigger, ready to pull in a given second if she needs it. Henry is still cowering behind Robin.

"He's immune," Robin explains to her neutral face, "He was bitten over a month ago…"

"Two months now," Henry corrects."

"Two months," Robin amends, edging closer and closer to Regina, but still holding an arm back to protect Henry, "Look at him. He is not going to hurt you."

She's speechless, entirely lost for words. She couldn't string together a single sentence in response, so she walks passed them both and into the endless trees.

Henry tries to follow her, but Robin holds him back as she walks deeper into the woods.

"Let her go," Robin pats Henry's shoulder comfortingly.

"What if she leaves? What if she tells someone?" Henry asks, wanting desperately to believe that Regina will stay, that she would not betray them, but given the last time, the worry swirls deep in his stomach.

"She won't tell anyone," Robin soothes, but he can't help but wonder himself if she will return to camp; she picked up her backpack at some point and walked away with everything she considers important. But she won't rat them out, he feels confident about that.

"How do you know?" He asks while Robin guides him towards the tent where Roland and David are slowly packing away loose items for their move in the morning.

"I don't know," Robin shrugs, "I just do."

* * *

A few hours pass before the sun decides to start its descent and she has been found. Someone is approaching her from behind while she is sat on dirt, its coolness lingering on her jeans, and she knows the intruder is Robin. Only he would stop for ten seconds to think about what he is going to say, so when the crunching footsteps stop, she calls out softly, "You can come over."

He does, takes residence on the ground across from her, leaning back on his hands.

"I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry," Robin begins, bending his knees closer into his chest. "If you were in immediate danger, I would have told you. But you weren't."

Considering it, she lets the nonchalant approach pass her by and bites her tongue. For the collection of hazed minutes since she walked out of camp, her mind has been pinned to that circled collection of deadly bite marks on the most lively boy she's met in months. Henry's immunity has all but been accepted, he has to be, it's the only explanation, but how? And what are the odds that after so many faces passed by, deliberately avoided, the one time she chooses to start opening up she finds herself engulfed in this kind of a mess.

"I don't understand any of this." Regina doesn't look up at him. She can't. She still can't rid of Henry's horrified look, the display of pure betrayal on his face when she drew her weapon earlier. Out of all the questions she has, only one is important right now, "Henry hates me now, doesn't he?"

Robin sighs. He starts to reach over, a comforting squeeze to her knee, but he doesn't. He stops a few inches away and decides against it.

"He doesn't hate you."

"I wouldn't blame him," there's anger in her tone, all directed at herself, pinpointed at her knee jerk reaction to annihilate anything that triggers fear or unknown. The dirt by her sides is being pressed and flung around hastily by her fidgeting fingertips. "I can't believe I did that."

"Hey," Robin shrugs his shoulders. The movement catches the attention of her gaze, she's looking at him now. "You are not the only one to point a weapon in his face after seeing that bite. I can promise you that."

It's a strange phrase to bring her comfort, but it does. "You?" She asks, looking for his story.

* * *

_"Robin, please don't," Emma begged, standing firmly in front of her son, staring at the point of an arrow that has been stretched back and ready to fire. "Look at him," she begged as tears fell from her eyes, heavy breaths escaping from a watery frown, "Look at his eyes. It's Henry. Please tell me you see that."_

_Robin stared into Henry's terrified eyes for what felt like an eternity, viciously hunting for any sign in them that the infection would cause him to turn. But they never did; they never became bloodshot, his speech never slurred, he never once decided live human flesh was the only food group for him. So Robin lowered his weapon, puzzled and oddly hopeful given the lack of understanding._

_Emma relaxed, as did Henry, their clutch onto each other lessening and the fell apart, but only slightly._

_"Thank you," Henry cried._

* * *

"I almost killed him," Robin groans at the horrid memory. "Thinking back on it now, I am furious at myself, but given the current life we are living, I could hardly blame anyone. You see a bite, that means infection, does it not?"

Regina scoffs a laugh, "Apparently it doesn't."

"I know it's hard to swallow," Robin frowns sadly, remembering the difficulty he had himself to wrap his head around it.

"So, what does it all mean?" Regina asks while shifting her weight, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"I wish I knew for sure," Robin follows suit, adjusting his weight, moving closer to sit by her. "We started hearing a radio broadcast soon after he was infected. A hospital in Boston. They are working on a vaccine."

"Can I hear it?"

"I wish you could," Robin brings his radio out from deep within one of his jacket pockets. He turns it on and switches around the channels, only for static to be heard. "We lost it a while back, but we haven't anything else better to do, so we chose to continue on."

Deep in her gut comes a sour feeling, one of uneasiness and distrust. Any facility working on a vaccine would be governmental, politician run. And never in her life has anything touched by political motives ended well. They are about to walk into a trap and she can feel it in her bones.

"That is a stupid idea," Regina reaches for the radio and switches it off. She tosses it onto the dirt between their bodies.

"There's that pessimism again," it's a lousy attempt at a joke and it's evident quickly, so he clears his throat back into seriousness, "We might get there and have it be nothing at all. However, it's what Henry wants. He thinks he can help and he would be very happy to do everything he can. He could save the world."

Regina groans. She gave up on trying to save the world months ago. "I just pray he doesn't get his hopes up."

"Hope is all he has," Robin disagrees, "It's what keeps him going."

"Operation Wild Heart?" Regina asks. Robin nods his affirmation and she purses her lips at his answer, asking curiously, "What is that anyway? A wild heart."

"Ah," Robin smirks, "I asked the same thing. According to Henry, a wild heart is a free spirit. Someone who can put aside the fear of being hurt and just live their life, but live it with morals and standards." Regina glues to him as he explains, latching tightly onto every word and finding none of herself in them, "A wild heart loves so deeply and will fight, maybe even die, for the people they care about."

It's a profound explanation, especially to have come from such a young man as Henry. Although Regina now finds herself knocked back, unsure and instead of talking, as usual, she tosses it aside.

"Let's go back," she whispers as she stands, leaving Robin to lift himself from the ground. He does, following her slowly towards camp and part of her wants Henry to be awake so she can apologise profusely until her jaw hurts, but seeing his zipped tent and no glow of a torch from inside relieves a pent up anxious breath that she had been holding in.

Bidding Robin a quick, impersonal goodnight, she settles herself inside her own personal space for the evening. But she can't sleep. Instead of finding a calm escape within a dream, her thoughts are rampaging, colliding with each other as she attempts to conduct a list of pros and cons in her head.

Should she stay or should she leave? That appears to be the burning question of the evening.

She promised him, she did. However, that was before she knew just how intense of a situation this was - unlike her prediction of Henry's father being in Boston, or maybe even Roland's mother, she has been bombarded with something that she can't find herself to support.

Governments. Politicians. Health facilitates like these only mean one thing and she knows far too well what that is. She's growing too close to these boys to have to watch them suffer at the hands of the types of people she fled from in her younger years, she can't watch them suffer.

So, it's decided. By morning, she will be on her way without them, no goodbyes, no explanation. Though she wishes they will understand one day that she is simply not enough of a wild heart to accompany them on this journey.

* * *

Of course, it's raining, it's only fitting that the weather reflects the ache in her heart right now. Raindrops gently fall from the sky and get caught on the leaves high above her head, but some slip through and fall atop their tents, some even making it all the way to the ground and soak the earth floor.

The sun is beginning to rise, and once the crickets start screeching, she knows it's time to go. She stops, though, standing in the centre of camp where the fire would usually be lit and takes a moment, a moment to close her eyes and make sure this is the right move.

If she leaves, the parting will be softer on her heart. It will still hurt, but the pain will be less. She makes that decision while listening to the rustling of the wind through the trees that surround her, eyes still closed and dropping her head back far.

She bets Henry listens to this sound all the time, finds it calming. Oh, Henry. The guilt that she feels is partly why Regina barely slept a wink last night, instead she spent most of it packing up her bag tightly for the morning flee and pondering her next move; she's going to move North and then head East, not too far North, but far enough to keep her moving in a different direction for a day or two.

Carefully, she tiptoes away from the camp, frowning ever so much knowing how disappointed they'll be that she slipped away. As she passes Henry's tent, however, something stops her. They have all shifted something in her, skewed her focussed outlook on life, all of them - Henry, David, Roland, especially Robin. They have made her feel welcome and cared about. The last thing she can do is leave making Henry think her departure is his fault because it isn't. The decision is entirely Regina's and the reasoning belongs to her also.

Reaching around her neck, she lifts from under her shirt for a long chain linked up with a small charm; an arrowhead, actually. She smiles softly at the irony, remembering the close encounter with Robin's when they first met.

This necklace was given to Regina very early in the outbreak by a woman whose name she didn't get the chance to learn. She became very close to this woman in a number of minutes, not necessarily by choice, but the stranger didn't survive and she begged Regina to find her family, to let them know that they were loved and the last thing on her mind. Safe to say, Regina never found them, but the experience marked her in a way that changed everything and she treasures this woman's necklace more than she should.

She is considering giving it to Henry, the gold chain and charm, leaving it for him by his tent as a peace offering.

She doesn't. Selfishly deciding that she needs it still and tucks it away again back under her shirt. There's nothing that she can do to lesson the blow, so like a band aid, she rips away, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and heading to the edge of camp. The tripped wires are carefully avoided, the cans attached around the outskirts not budging anymore than if they were blown in the wind.

"It's rude to sneak off," Robin startles from within the camp, tossing his leg over the wire to join her. Shit. She didn't want to say goodbye, it will be too difficult, hence the sneaking.

"I have more than overstayed my welcome," Regina sighs, hoping that he will hop back to where the rest are sleeping, but alas, he is as stubborn as she is.

Robin folds his arms, squinting his eyes towards her to concentrate on her shaded complexion, "You were set on staying yesterday. And then you learned the truth, you are scared and now have decided to be a coward," he ignores the scoff that leaves her lips, continuing, "Don't ask me to explain it, milady, but you have become someone we care about in a matter of days. They are going to be heartbroken to learn that you've left."

"Which is exactly why I have to go." It's forced - true but forced.

"We need you," Robin pleads, a glint in his eye that cuts to Regina's core; the reliance, the attachment, even after a few short days, this group of boys are intruding into her heart and she needs to end it quickly before she really gets hurt.

"No," simple, to the point, "You don't need me. You want me around, there's a difference." Robin is immediately disheartened, knowing he has no chance of convincing her. "I can't be a part of this. It's messy. And quite frankly, I work better on my own."

"This life is hard enough, I can't imagine doing it alone." The crickets are still chirping harmoniously and Regina has no well-timed response "How do you get through each day with nothing to live for?"

Well, that was direct, and it shows on her strained look, "If I have anything or anyone to live for, it just means I have things to lose." She doesn't mean for it to come off as defensive as it does, but he's hit a sore spot, a spot she hates having challenged. "And that's exactly why I can't come with you."

"You are infuriatingly pessimistic," Robin groans, lightening the conversation with an added chuckle, though he asks quite seriously, "We are going to Boston. Henry is important and could be the answer to everything, why wouldn't you want to be a part of that?"

Henry. Oh, that poor boy. So giving and motivated but with hot a clue in the world what he's getting himself into.

"He's young and naive. Giving him a sense of significance in all of this is just cruel. Think of how disappointed he will feel at the end if all that hope was built up for nothing?"

"It's what he wants," Robin replies, heavily slumping his shoulders after an exaggerated shrug. "But what's the real reason you won't help? The reason that isn't this bullshit excuse about Henry getting his hopes up."

"What do you mean?" Regina glares at him, feigning an upper hand that is entirely his, so much so, that he draws out Regina's answer only with a narrower brow and pinned look. "I can't..." she struggles to find the right way to say it. Does she sugar coat it? Look for a politer phrase? "I can't travel with you all knowing that at the end, Henry will die."

"What do you mean he'll die?" Robin asks, walking closer to her now, still maintaining a distance but closer.

"Oh, come on, Robin," Regina sighs sadly, defeated, "Open your eyes. A hospital looking for a vaccine, you know its government run."

"So?"

"You really think a government run health facility is going to come into contact with possibly the only immune human they've ever found, take a pint of blood and let him walk away?" She is blinking back stinging tears, hoping that he sees her point, hoping that he'll understand. "I know all too well the greediness that lies within these kinds of facilities. They will bleed Henry dry, use him and prod at him and make him wish he were dead," Robin crosses his arms them, rubbing up and down shyly, "And for what? The minute possibility of a vaccine that you know we'll never see?"

"You care about him." Robin has seemed to figure it out. It's not fear of the immunity, or the messiness of it all. It's the gut wrenching way she has convinced herself that she will lose them in the most permanent of ways. It's the fear of their death that is causing her to run.

"It will be easier if I just go now," Regina pleads desperately with his eyes, begging him to let her walk away quietly.

And how could he not? How could he justify within himself to trick or persuade her into being a part of something that she doesn't wish to be? "Be careful," Robin offers sadly, knowing that their goodbye is nearing.

She refuses to say it, but provides him a nod as if to say you too* and turns to walk away, a huge inhale before taking her first step.

"Wait," it comes desperately from behind her, and she recognises the tone, the pitch that accompanies a motivational speech. "I won't try to make you stay, but I've noticed something...I don't know what you've been through..." Bam, there it is, and Regina is rolling her eyes, something he appears to make her do quite a bit,"...or what you've had to do in order to survive."

"No, you don't," she bites, desperate to end his train of thought, and it fails, of course.

"But, it's fairly obvious that you had to do something somewhere along that way, something hard," he's trying to reason with the argument that she doesn't have the chance to respond with. "The second this outbreak began, those old societal rules don't apply in this life. Right and wrong isn't what it used to be, sometimes there isn't a choice."

Despite her trying, the intricate choices she has made to avoid sharing too much about herself, Robin has still managed to read her like an open book; one in a language only he can read apparently. But she can't agree, "There's always a choice."

"Whether you believe that or not," he retorts, as a matter of fact, then softens, "The way you beat yourself up... You shouldn't. This life is hard enough without holding guilt over your own head."

She still hasn't turned to face him, biting her lip to distract herself from the tears that are threatening to form; it's been a long time since somebody cared enough to take time and thought into her life. And when he respects her decision to leave, offering a simple,  _good luck_ , Regina hears a clunking at her feet. She looks down to see a small bag of supplies, one that he has hastily thrown together for her. Before she can thank him, he is long into camp, she can only see the back of his head weaving through the trees ahead.

So, maybe this is going to be slightly more painful than she anticipated. Especially since her heart is still somewhere in that god damn camp, as if she removed it from her own chest and entrusted it to them all, to Robin.


	4. Chapter 4

Henry wakes early. A daily occurrence at most, unless they spend the entire day walking. Most mornings he enjoys to read a chapter or two of a book, but he finished the one he was reading a few nights earlier and he hasn't had the chance to find a new one.

So, instead, he decides to soak up the morning. And, of course, he wants to know if the newest member of their camp returned back to go to bed if she calmed down and settled. To his surprise, Robin is already awake and stirring around another morning's worth of porridge by the campfire. And that's when Henry realises that their new friend has run off.

His heart sinks, anchors to the ground with a clunk and it's heard a mile away.

"I'm sorry, lad," Robin sighs sadly from where he is sitting, hating the way Henry's face is laced with disappointment and blame.

"I scared her away," Henry mutters toward the ground, the deep rooted worry having become a reality. He slumps sadly toward Robin, sitting beside him.

A delicate squeeze to Henry's shoulder gains Robin the attention he wants, "You didn't scare her. She didn't agree with what we are doing,"

"Why?" Henry shifts awkwardly to his knees, "What if we make all of this go away?" _How could she not see that?_ He wonders.

"She cares about you, Henry," Robin tells him. Moving the hot pot filled with breakfast down to the dirt next to them, Robin offers him a spoon. "She feels that you will come out of this disappointed, disheartened, or even worse..." Robin tosses around a few word choices in his head, "...hurt."

The last word rings uneasily within Henry. There has always been that wonder of whether or not what they're doing is a wise decision. There are bound to be a number of dangers that they haven't considered and even ones that have considered but are all individually eager to ignore and push out of their minds.

"Do you think she is right?" Henry asks, suddenly unable to take a bite of what he had gathered on his spoon.

Mid chew, Robin tilts his head and asks the most important question, "Do  _you_?"

"I don't know," Henry answers honestly, "But we have to try."

"And try we shall," Robin smiles, urging with his chin for Henry to commit to the bite that is still lingering. It's sweeter than usual and Henry grins toward Robin.

"Sugar?" He asks.

Robin reaches behind the log that he is perched slightly against, revealing a half full bag of caster sugar, something that Henry has consistently been begging for them to find for weeks.

"It appears our new friend didn't leave without leaving you a small token behind," Robin says, giving Henry the bag. "She must have heard your incessant complaints about how awful my cooking is," Henry rolls his eyes at him. "She left it in her tent."

Henry's touched by the gesture, a small hint of light in the tiny glimmer of irritation he feels towards her.

"Do you think we'll ever see her again?" He asks.

"I really hope so," Robin smirks, darting his eyes away from Henry, down toward the inside of the pan.

"Yeah, I bet you do," Henry snorts, only to be rewarded by a laughter ridden, huffed  _shut up_  from Robin.

Henry is disappointed. He will easily and happily admit that to anyone who asks. However, if she really felt like she couldn't support their operation, then her leaving is for the best, no matter how much Henry wanted her to stay. And who knows, she may even bump into them again along the way, maybe at a time when she's ready.

"Where are we aiming to be today?" Henry asks with regards to their move.

Robin reaches for his pocket, but stops midway, and then asks Henry, "Go get your map and we'll see."

He finishes off the last gulp picked up on his spoon and stands to get the map from his tent. Robin made one for each of them when they were all separated from their main group - a detailed description of the paths they will take, roughly where they will set up for the evenings, circles of small ponds or rivers as indicated on the paper. This way, if anyone were to get separated, they weren't at a complete loss as to where to start looking for each other.

Henry returns with the map in hand while Robin dishes breakfast into two small containers, and like clockwork, Roland and David emerge from their tents. Of course, Roland skips happily to his father, excited for the prospects of the new day.

"She's gone?" David asks, taking the container that Robin is graciously handing to him. Robin nods simply and makes no effort to hide the disappointment he feels. Frowning, David mutters, "That's a shame."

"Yeah," Robin agrees.

"Where is your map, anyway?" Henry asks, giving the map to Robin's now outstretched arm.

"I must've packed it away in one of the bags already," he dismisses and opens the map wide and looks at the drawn line. "It looks like we should hit just the edge of Tennessee today. Or at least we'll try." David and Roland are sitting now, chatting away eating breakfast with each other. "What do you say we start packing things away?" He asks Henry,

Together they beginning pulling the tent ties from the ground, packing them expertly into bags, showing just how many times they've done it. The tents come down quickly, efficiently, and for the most part quietly.

"Robin?" Henry asks as they are rolling away the outer shell of a tent. They finish the rolling before Robin gives his full attention. "What do you think her name is?"

Robin laughs, glad that he's not the only one who is as curious, "I haven't a clue, lad. What do you think?"

Henry ponders for a second, "Rebecca?" Robin can't help but snort, making Henry laugh, "Okay, so not Rebecca. Sarah, maybe?"

"Maybe," Robin breathes out a single laugh and stretches his arms out in front of him, sighing heavily while his arms slump back to his sides.

"What is it?" Henry asks, concerned.

While shaking his head, Robin shrugs his shoulders again, "I quite enjoyed having her around," he confides, wishing that he hadn't let her walk away so easily. Perhaps he could have said something more effective, more convincingly to make her change her mind.

"Me too," Henry frowns.

* * *

The zombie has taken her by surprise. It remained extremely silent while she scoped out the house. It isn't dark outside yet, but the rain is horrendous, battering violently on the sidewalk and the windows. So, she wouldn't usually be looking for a resting place this early, but thanks to the weather and her wandering mind, Regina has found herself wedged between the floor and a set of teeth that are drawn to her like a magnet.

Her face scrunches and her teeth clench while she uses her hands to keep the dead face away. A pained grunt as she wriggles her knees awkwardly to find any position that might give her the upper hand to push its weight away, freeing herself.

Eventually, after far too much effort, she manages to flip it away and scrambles to the nearest wall. The small knife latched to her jeans is in her hands and she rids of the problem - a stab violently between its eyes, something she can do much too easily nowadays, but it renders the beast still and silent.

Taking a minute, she tries to catch and steady her breathing and bends low towards the ground, balancing on her feet. After dropping the knife to the ground, Regina leans back against the wall, settles fully and sits on the floor of the bedroom she was startled in.

That was so, so sloppy and stupid. She walked in without a second thought, without even considering the danger that may have lurked inside and it backfired. One moment of careless mind wandering could have very well resulted in her infection.

 _It's Robin's fault_ , she thinks.

She was so focused on running through his final words to her that she let her concentration falter. But she can hardly blame him for it completely, she is the one letting it take the effect it has.

Walking away this morning was hard and as the sun rose fully and beamed down on her dark hair from the sky, she wondered if they were awake yet, and if Henry was going to complain about Robin's porridge for another consecutive morning, and of course she hopes that Henry found the sugar she had left.

But now she's thinking about the disappointment on his face realising that she has skipped out on them, but she shakes it away, reaching for the backpack that was so unceremoniously tossed away when she had to fight off that thing.

Inside is a towel, one that is grossly in need of cleaning (she'll most likely just replace it with one from the house she's in now), and wipes along her arms, ridding her body of the moisture from the rain outside, the tip of her long, messy braid is dripping onto the floor.

Looking around, she decides very easily that she will not sleep with that body in the room. So she stands up and drags it out into the second floor hallway, passed the top of the staircase and further along to another closed door. She abandons its arms and (carefully this time) enters the room. Her knife is in hand and she creaks the door open slowly, but it becomes clear very fast that she's alone, this room is free of danger and the undead.

It's a small boys room.  _Was_  a small boys room. It's a beautiful shade of blue, not quite navy but close enough. The toys are scattered around the floor and dust has gathered on the carpet. Looking to the back wall, she notices a second bed and posters on the wall; bands mostly, ones she hasn't heard of at all. It appears to have homed an older boy; brothers sharing a bedroom.

And here she is again, in this circling path of emotions. She misses them, then she scolds herself for getting attached, and then she's back to missing them again.

Roland and Henry would love this room. She reaches down and picks up a stuffed monkey toy from the floor with Roland on her mind. She can see so clearly in her head the toothy smile of gratitude he would beam her way if she were to give it to him.

She wraps her arms tightly around the toy, pulling it close into her chest and looks to the other side of the room. What are the chances that there is a large, brown, leather bound book sitting above the comforter with  _Once Upon a Time_  written beautifully across the face.

Henry needs a new book. He mentioned it to her two days ago. She flips it open to the middle and admires the unique font and artwork for a small moment, but slaps it closed again.

The monkey is placed on top of the book and she stands with a huffed sigh, going back out of the door to pull the dead weight of the zombie inside. She abandons it on the cream rug between the beds and picks up the book and the toy.

She may never see those sweet boys again, but just in case…

Back in the master bedroom, Regina closes the door and props the vanity chair against it at an angle - there is no way anything is getting through that door tonight without her permission. She needs to sleep, she's utterly exhausted and her heart is so heavy. So the monkey and the collection of fairytales are sat on the bedside table while she opens up her backpack.

The bag Robin tossed her way as she was leaving is sat on top, still tied close. She is sure he gave her the bare essentials to make it a few days, so she ignores it, for now, throwing it near the pillows while she rummages through her things to find the can of peaches she knows is hidden at the bottom somewhere.

Munching on the peaches she eventually finds, Regina makes herself comfortable on the stranger's bed. There was a time, just before Daniel was lost, they used to get to know the families who once lived in these houses.

They would look at the pictures on the walls, get a sense for who they were and talk about where they might be now. Of course, everyone survived in their heads, but she can't think like that anymore. There isn't enough hope in the world to fuel such positive thinking, so she has stopped looking at the photos now. She actively tries to ignore them.

Instead, she read a small portion of the book she picked up for Henry. He would love it. So, she packs it away in her bag, just in case they bump into each other in the future, and of course, the monkey goes in there too, even though there isn't enough room for it. She makes it fit.

The bag Robin gave her isn't going to make it back in, though. She pulls it back over to her side of the bed where she is sat comfortably with her legs crossed, the last hour or so of natural light dimly lighting the bedroom.

She rips away the plastic and is rather confused at the lack of cans like she was expecting. Instead, her heart flutters and dips into her stomach. She's frowning as she lifts out the water bottle Henry had given her. It's filled to the brim of the cleanest water they had and the question mark still clearly marked on the plastic.

There is also a few packets of the porridge Robin likes to make in the mornings, and she tries to stifle a laugh. He's so convinced everyone likes it more than they do and it could be very comical in the morning; Henry making his humoured, snarky comments and David making silly faces of disgust to Roland just to garner a soft, light hearted moment in the form of a childish giggle.

Of course, they were all appreciative of what they had, but never has she known a group to be so lively and always looking for the next opportunity to laugh.

She misses them. She really misses them. Henry's optimism and conversation. Roland's bright smile. David's undeniable charm and humour. And Robin… There is something about him that makes her feel warm and safe.

She misses all of it.

There is one last item placed between the packets, and she lifts it out.

On the front, someone has written: In case _you change your mind._

She realises then that it's one of the maps that they all had, the one with the details of their journey and she wants to cry.

"What an asshole," Regina laughs to herself. Robin knew that she would doubt leaving, that the regret would be eating her alive.

Conflicted and with a big decision ahead, Regina shoves everything to one side of the bed for now. She will sleep and organise her conflicting thoughts in the morning.

She curls up on her side, closes her eyes, and she would never admit it to a soul, but she fumbles inside her bag for the monkey she found for Roland, holds it close and gives herself to a land of dreams.

* * *

The more they stop and start, the more things they seem to accumulate. The weight of all their possessions is beginning to slow them down, especially when considering Roland is much too tiny to be lugging anything along the way, so the extra weight is distributed among the older.

But they power on with their makeshift tents carefully stuffed into large hiking bags along with any food supplies they could muster. David insists on carrying what they use to make small meals; nothing fancy just a small pot and some spoons, but they definitely need to consider leaving behind items they can find again once they settle for a few nights.

Roland and Robin power on ahead of David and Henry who have slowed down to drink a gulp or two of water.

"How are you doing, kid?" David asks, savouring the way they water soothes down his chest.

"Fine," Henry huffs closing his bottle again, "I'm just a little tired."

"We all are," David agrees, "But we are almost there. Only four more miles, right?" Henry appreciates David's optimism. It almost matches his own, but today it's faltering and David knows exactly why. "It's not your fault she's gone."

"I know," Henry twists to put his water bottle back into his bag and David follows suit. "I just wish she had stayed long enough to talk about it. Maybe we could have changed her mind."

"She doesn't seem like the type that is easily persuaded," David says as they begin to walk again. Robin and Roland have ended up out of their view, and they are sure the father and son aren't too far ahead, but a strange sound makes David hold Henry back suddenly.

He has his hand on Henry's chest, keeping him in place. Henry is about to ask what's wrong, but David silences him, shushing him quietly with a finger against his lips. They both listen intently, holding their breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, David catches a glimpse of Robin waving his arms frantically to get their attention, and he gets it finally, a wave of relief flushing across Robin's face. He mouths to them to hide and stay silent.

They seek cover behind a tree larger than most, keeping their eyes peeled for any sort of danger that may send them fleeing - they have a procedure. If danger is imminent, you run. You keep running until you are safe and then when the right time comes, you make your way back to the guided travel line on the map, that's why Robin made one for each of them, after all.

The sounds that stopped them initially become louder - it's a group walking loudly and with determined rhythm. David takes Henry close into his arms, hoping to still their breathing, minimising any chance of being heard by the group walking this way.

As the footsteps get louder and louder, they begin to make out voices, and it's just as Robin had feared.

Gold.

These are Gold's men, marching like they own the place and they are talking about Henry, about how they must find the  _child who's immune_  and  _bring him to Gold_ because  _Gold has a plan._ Robin panics but tries to remain as calm as possible, Roland is petrified and practically shaking in his arms, but he's being so good, he's staying so, so quiet.

Luckily, they seem to go unnoticed, but only barely. They stay hidden even long after the footsteps disappear off in the other direction, they won't risk it just in case. There could be a second group or one left-over, staggering member who could make a problem for them.

It's David who decides enough is enough and walks into the open, not with Henry, though. Henry is told to stay put until they know for sure. Roland's legs are wrapped around Robin's waist tightly, his head pressed hard into Robin's neck.

"Is he okay?" David asks looking at the scared boy in Robin's arms.

Robin nods, but breaths a stressed, "That was too close." David nods his head in agreement, letting go of the breath that has been locked in his chest. "They came out of nowhere. How did you know?"

"I don't know, something just wasn't right," David murmurs, still reeling from the adrenaline. "Henry," he softly calls to the tree behind him, "I think you're good to come out."

Henry rounds the tree trunk, pulling the large bag that David had abandoned on the ground along with him. Robin and David feel a weight lift from their shoulders at the sight of him, only for one second, but his safety means the world.

"We have to deviate from our map," David tells Robin. It's a hint of a suggestion, but there isn't much room for debate.

And right away Robin thinks of her -  _Milday_ or  _Maybe Sarah_ , who knows. He gave her the map. what if she decided to come back? What if she is on her way right now? But is it worth risking everything on a chance like that?

Robin shakes it away. Henry comes first. Even she would agree to that.

"Yeah," Robin agrees and shifts Roland up on his body after he slips a little, "You're right. Let's head North for a bit. Once we hit a town, we will find somewhere to stay the night."

* * *

After a semi-decent nights sleep, Regina finds herself walking slowly in the direction her head wants her to be, but slowing every so often when her heart tweaks awkwardly and makes her doubt her decision. Her mind is telling her to keep moving, to keep going North and ignore the way she wants so much to follow that stupid map. But she urges her legs to keep walking away, despite the extra energy it is taking to do so.

She stops and bends with a loud, frustrated groan. She hasn't felt this conflicted since the outbreak first began. She reaches for her necklace around her neck one more time and thinks of the women who entrusted it to her again, thinks of how desperately she wanted to be with her family during her final moments. Her last breath was spent thinking about the people she loved and Regina watched as her life filtered away. The woman who owned this necklace was a wild heart and so much braver than Regina could ever be.

Regina's heart is still somewhere in that god damn camp, with them, as if she removed it from her own chest and entrusted it to them all, to Robin.

So now she's stopped dead in her tracks, staring ahead to the East, the sun making much more of an appearance now.

Should she keep going or go back? The decision tilting back and forward like her weight on the balls of her feet.

If she keeps going she's alone and if she goes back she isn't. Either way, they all are heading in the same direction, it would be stupid to not...Right?

"This is a bad idea," Regina groans to herself from deep in her throat and she turns back around, reaching for the gifted map in her coat pocket and opens it wide. She is going to follow this trail so carefully and quickly to try and catch up.

Being alone and working by herself may have been working for her, it may be the same option, but it's so monotonous. It's about time she took a damn risk and make an effort for a better life, an existence she is proud of.

She will find them again... if it is the last thing she does.


	5. Chapter 5

"Alright, boys. It's clear."

Robin opens up the front door wider for them, lowering his bow nearer to the ground, the need for it diminished.

They have been waiting outside with David in the light of the freshly setting sun while Robin did the rounds to make sure all is safe inside, each room carefully investigated for any signs of the undead or the living. David passes first, then Henry walks inside, Roland clutching on to his hand. When the front door clicks closed, everyone drops their heavy bags to the floor in a collective sigh.

Usually, they've avoided sleeping in other people's houses, sticking to the outdoors where Robin feels that it's safer, less enclosed, easier to run, even if the weather is always a factor up in the air. In the forest, there are no doors, windows or walls that can keep you from escaping if danger creeps upon them

But after their close encounter earlier, he and David decide that they can change up their rules for a night or two.

"Can we look around?" Henry asks. Everyone is taking a much needed moment to stretch out the aches and pains that have gathered on their walk.

David nods, "Take Roland. Maybe you'll find a good enough book in one of the bedrooms."

Henry looks over to Robin, making sure he agrees too. He smiles and, even if it is somewhat forced, gives Henry the green light. He climbs the stairs with Roland's hand back in his tightly.

When they turn into one of the bedrooms, Robin bends over and exhales the heavy, tight breath that has been getting caught in his throat since Gold's men marched by. David knew how terrifying it all was, but the last thing Robin wanted was to instil any more fear in the hearts of the younger travellers.

"We're okay," David comforts. He slaps Robin's shoulder, finishing off with a squeeze. He takes the bow from Robin's hand. "Sit down," David urges, and he does, sitting on the dust ridden couch in the living room. Robin drinks the water that David offers from one of the bags in the hallway - no fight, no complaint.

"I don't know what we would have done if they saw us."

Robin realises now that they are somewhat settled for the evening just how rattled that close call has made him.

"They didn't," David reminds him, something easily forgotten in the eyes of fear. He takes a seat across from Robin on the coffee table. "They didn't find him."

"What if they do?" Robin asks. It's the conversation they've both put off, the conclusions ones that are hard to swallow. "If they take Henry, what do we do? Do we run? Or do we risk everything to get him back?"

It's not that he considers Henry a burden, that could never be it. But he has wondered time and time again if going after him would be worth it if Henry is snatched away. Would his captors keep him alive long enough for a rescue to be possible, or would they terminate him immediately?

It's an area of thought that Robin constantly shies away from, avoids at all costs because it rips his heart open, but after everything earlier today, he can't chase the thoughts away like he has been able to do before.

David sighs heavily, the shrug of his shoulders as honest as his answer, "I don't know."

Roland clambers down the stairs as quickly as his little legs will take him, a little louder than Robin would like, but it's not an issue when his excited boy rounds the corner.

"Papa," he claps, "There are  _beds_."

Robin laughs at the simplicity of Roland's excitement, something once so common is held in such high appreciation nowadays. "That there are, my boy."

"Can we sleep in them?" He asks.

Robin wants them all in the same room. He wants everyone to be within arms reach, but how does he explain that to such an excited face?

Luckily, David suggests, "Why don't we bring all the mattresses downstairs and we can all sleep in the living room? We can make an adventure out of it?"

Roland glows, even more, nodding his head frantically and pulling at David for him to stand up and go upstairs, most likely to start all the preparation.

Henry stays standing in the doorway, gloomy and looking slightly guilty.

"Did you find a book?" Robin asks. Henry shakes his head. His eyes meet the floor. Robin reaches forward and slaps the coffee table right where David was sat. "Come and talk to me."

Robin can tell whenever Henry is battling an inner demon, and much like Robin, Henry hates to burden anyone with his problems.

Reluctantly, Henry slumps to the table and plonks down on it, ignoring Robin's gaze completely.

"You're hard to read," Robin sighs. "I could use your mom's super power right now." It's a lame attempt at a joke, but Henry's lips turn up slightly, even if just for a second, but they droop again sadly.

"I heard what you said before," Henry mumbles, meeting Robin's eyes. "About them catching me."

Robin had no clue that the boys were in earshot, he thought he and David were alone, evident when his jaw opens wide and his eyes glaze over. "I'm sorry," he apologises sincerely, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"You run," Henry says sternly, too much sincerity in such a young voice, but he means it. "If they catch me, you run as fast as you can and you never look back."

Robin shivers at the similarity to Emma's final words to him. Emma told him not to look back and her son is sat before him preaching the same sermon.

"Henry..." Robin prepares to spit out every argument he has.

"No," Henry grits. "Promise me that you'll run. If you don't, they will kill you. I'm not worth that."

Robin squeezes Henry's knee and counters, "You are worth that and more. I promised your mother than I'd get you to Boston. So, we will make it to Boston."

"I hate that you are all risking everything for this."

"A life without risk isn't a life worth living, Henry."

"I don't want you to-"

They are interrupted by footsteps down the stairs again, Roland and David muttering through their plan of action. Henry stands from the coffee table, shaking off the intensity that was their conversation, but instead of listening to Roland's intricate mattress plan, Henry is plotting a plan of his own, one that the others would shoot down in a heartbeat, but one he feels is absolutely necessary.

* * *

The map shows her the way right back to the first camp, the one that Robin helped her stumble to in the midst of her injury. She knew they'd be gone, but there had still been a small glimmer of hope in her heart wondering if they maybe decided to hold off for a couple of days, that they would still be there.

Instead, the campground is empty. The fire pit is still there, devout of the firewood they most likely took with them, but other than that, it's simply just a leftover few bits and pieces.

Except that envelope that's tucked under the log they sat on at breakfast. Regina wonders if it was left by someone in the camp or if it's just a stray piece that got lodged, she reaches down to pry it from under the weight of the log, but before she can, she has to hide.

A strong voice in the distance is calling out, several footsteps getting louder and louder as they approach the camp space.

She's hiding behind a tree quickly, steadying her breathing. She listens as the voices get louder, her fingertips skim over the top of the gun in her jeans, she grasps it, slowly and quietly revealing it and gripping it tightly, finger on the trigger just in case.

"Anything?" A man asks. She can't see them, not risking exposing herself just for the glimpse.

There are two of them, two voices talking at least.

"There was definitely a camp here," the other voice speaks, "Might have been the boy."

_Henry._

Regina tightens the grip on her gun, slipping the straps of her backpack near the creases in her elbows, readying herself to drop it quickly and aim if she needs to.

"Or any other survivor of this mess."

Regina decides to hold off on making her presence known, remains silent and listens for any information they might give up. She hears some rustling, kicking around of feet, then the drop of something solid.

"It appears you may be correct about the boy being here," one of the voices sounds again, the grin on his face loud in the voice alone. "There's an envelope here addressed to Emma."

"The boy's mother? What does it say?"

Regina frowns sadly as she listens to the envelope being ripped open. Henry is so full of hope that he leaves a letter for his mother each time they leave a camp... Of course he does.

Her frown becomes a scowl when one of the voices laughs, "It's just a display of desperation. He's a fool to think she will ever escape Gold's camp."

Her anger seeps strongly. How dare they ridicule Henry's attempt at communicating with Emma? Then she loses the grip on her bag, it falls recklessly to the forest floor, making every noise it possibly can on the way down, then, of course, it has to roll away slightly, cans clashing together on the way.

She drops her head back against the tree and clenches her teeth, hissing a reasonably frustrated, "Shit," through her teeth.

"Come out!" A voice calls out. She's busted, she doesn't have a choice but to run. But there's no way she will be able to get her bag without being shot at...

The map is in the bag.

Regina rolls her eyes, completely aimed at her own stupidity. If she runs without her bag, they'll ransack it. If they find that map, they may connect dots and follow it. She'd practically be giving Henry up to them.

She has to out herself.

Slipping her gun back into the waistband of her jeans, she pulls her jacket over it and emerges from the tree with her hands lifted near her shoulders. She tries to avoid the eyes of the men but is all too surprised when they call out her name to keep it up.

"Regina Mills?"

She stares ahead and tilts her head, "Sidney?"

Sidney Glass. She hasn't seen this man since the weekend she left her mother's grasp, and time was a lot friendlier to her, to say the least. He has greyed immensely, years of stress clear as day showing as wrinkles on his face

Sidney seems to see little threat in her, and he lowers the weapon that he had previously had pointing in her direction, so she uses that to her advantage.

"I was not expecting to see you," Sidney smiles, tucking the weapon away.

Regina fakes an overly relieved giggle and lowers her hands, sneaking the opportunity to reach for her dropped backpack, along with the map she is concerned about, and slings it back over her shoulders.

"I don't expect to see anyone from my past nowadays," Regina tells him, and she watches him shrug in agreement. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm under direct orders to find a young boy, there are quite a number of people out looking for him," he tells her, but when he realises he's exposing too much, he changes the subject. "Why were you hiding?"

Regina just goes for the honest answer, "You hear voices nowadays, you hide, right? I never know who or what to expect." He accepts her answer with no additional questioning, so she attempts to pry for more information, "Why on earth are you searching for a boy in the middle of the apocalypse? He must mean a great deal to you."

"It's a sensitive issue," Sidney tells her, "I don't suppose you've seen him? He's travelling with two men and a young boy."

"I travel alone," Regina lies to him, praying that she remains convincing enough, "You're the first person I've seen in weeks."

They've remained quite a fair distance apart since they started conversing and he doesn't seem to think she's lying, but he smirks at her, a creepy, unnecessary smirk that makes her stomach churn.

Then she remembers that he wasn't alone before, there was someone else with him and she has yet to have him come into view. And when she hears the soft, crept footsteps, the reality comes crashing down. Swiftly, Regina pulls her gun free again and points it straight out to her right, directly into the eyes of a shocked man, not expecting her sudden threat.

"Try it," she challenges. "I dare you."

"Stand down, Graham," Sidney tells him, amused and impressed by her speed, and she watches him relax and step back a few paces, but her gun remains on him, her finger still ready to pull that trigger if she needs to.

Regina can't believe her eyes now that she can really look at him. Graham was her old classmate, never someone she considered a friend, but someone she knew once. He was too good of a person to get caught up with people like Sidney Glass.

"Don't worry, she won't kill you," Sidney laughs to ease the tension.

Regina glares at him, "Won't I?"

"Of course not," he laughs again, "You don't have it in you."

Regina moves her aim from Graham to Sidney, deciding that Graham is no longer a threat and would love to make a point, interested to see just how he reacts. She makes the point loud and clear it seems, Sidney clamps his mouth closed, nervously shuffling backwards when Regina steps closer.

"You have no idea what I am capable of," Regina bites, angrily. He's pissed her off. "I have had to kill people. I have had to kill people I  _love_. So don't test me."

Sidney backs away more prominently, his hands in the air now, talking her down, "I'm sorry."

"What were you trying to pull?" Regina asks forcefully, tilting her head to indicate Graham. He was sneaking up on her and she wants to know why.

"Cora," he blurts out and her heart sinks, chest tightens. "She is working with Gold. They want the boy we're looking for, he harbours a power that they need to eliminate." Regina pointedly glares at him, a silent threat of pain in her eyes, one that will be acted upon if he's lying to her. "I thought showing up with you might be an added bonus."

 _An added bonus_.

This apocalypse, living in this wasteland has caused everyone to lose any ounce of respect for another human being.

That's why she should have stayed with Henry and the rest of them. They were so  _good_  and she was so stupid.

"What happened to you?" Regina asks, "What happened that made you so warped and brainwashed by my mother?"

Smirking again, Sidney answers, "I worship her as if she were a Queen. And I am protected and taken care of in this life."

The answer makes her blood boil and run ice cold simultaneously. If she and Daniel never escaped Cora's clutch, this could very well be one of them.

"Go," Regina demands through her teeth. "Get out of my sight." Graham and Sidney meet in the middle of camp and scatter off the left and run. "And if I see either of you again, I'll kill you," she yells, hoping that it remains nothing but a threat.

When they are out of sight, she drops her bag to the ground again stressfully. First Gold is back in her life and now Cora?

If her mother is involved, Henry is in much more danger than they realise. So, she has to find them. Now.

With the map in hand, she figures out which way to walk. They seem to stick the main roads, so it should be easy enough. She slings herself back together, gets ready to walk, but catches another small sliver of white paper under the log.

She lifts the wood away and pulls out another envelope - there's a question mark scribbled on the front. Henry has left her a note too.

Impatiently, she tears into it and reads the short few sentences:

_I'm sorry if I scared you into leaving. I should have been more careful when I told you._

_I hope you find what you're looking for. Safe travels._

_Henry._

With a light aired ache in her chest, Regina carefully folds up the small note and tucks it away in her jeans and walks away from the first camp to find their next, hoping that she gets to them before Sidney or Graham does, or worse her mother or Gold. She'll walk all night if she has to.

* * *

It's pitch black when Henry clicks the door closed to the house. All that he could secretly pack away is sealed in his bag and he walks away quickly from where the remainder of his family is sleeping soundly.

Those men are after him and they will kill anyone who stands in their way. The thought alone of Robin, Roland, or David losing their life or getting hurt at all, especially in an attempt to protect him isn't something he can live with.

So, he made the decision to finish the rest of this operation alone.

On any other night, Robin or David would have woken - they sleep relatively lightly. But even in the close proximity of the mattresses in the living room, Henry was able to slip away undetected. They tend to sleep heavily after a day of walking, and having the comfort of a mattress no doubt lulled them all into deeper slumbers than usual.

He walks with a small gun in his hand, one Robin was reluctant to give him but did anyway, not without hours of practice shooting and lectures about gun safety, of course.

He's trembling. While braver than most teenagers, the dark mixed with the zombie apocalypse isn't something to treat lightly - and waiting for morning was out of the question, he never would have made it out without someone waking.

So he walks, and walks, and walks. For hours it seems, and that's not a bad estimate, the sun is just beginning to peak in the east. After a while, the forest begins to look the same and he wonders if he's walking in circles, maybe he should stop and rest?

But the idea is short lived, voices and heavy footsteps sound around him. There are torches in the distance, a search party looking for something. Are they looking for him? If they are searching so early in the morning, it must be important.

Henry turns back, flips and starts walking away from the lights, but then he sees more lights. They seem to be coming from every direction, all walking towards him.

He has to keep moving. It's Robin's rule. Movement is survival. But it doesn't seem to be helping him right now. They are closing in on him.

He tries one more direction, walking faster than usual, speeding up with the speed of his breathing. In the distance, he sees a collection of white tents, groups of tables - a camp.

Henry realises then that these lights aren't heading out to search for him... They're coming back after looking for him all night.

This must be Gold's camp. Panicked, he walks backwards, trying to steady his breathing. He wants Robin, he needs Robin. Robin would know what to do. Why did he leave? How could he be so stupid?

Then he's engulfed by tight arms, a hand clamped firmly over his mouth and pulled back a few more feet before the person holding onto him stops. Henry still can't see who has dragged him away, but never has he been so happy to hear a voice in his entire life.

"Don't make a sound, don't even breathe," she whispers.

Regina had in fact decided to walk all night hoping to catch up with the boys on their travels, then she caught signs of the camp and decided to investigate. Once she realised it was Gold's hold out, she was on her way back to the drawn trail, and that's when she spotted and alone, Henry looked terrified and in trouble.

She holds onto him now, shushing him, and closes her eyes tightly trying to think about how to get them out of this mess undetected and alive.


	6. Chapter 6

Regina releases him from the tight hold she has him in, not enough to let him really move, but enough so she can twist and look around. She tells him to stay quiet in a hushed, barely audible whisper. There are at least three people to their right, two to their left, and four behind them. If they run ahead they will end up right into the enemy camp, into Gold's grasp, and apparently Cora's too.

They'd be better suited to shooting themselves before anyone else could beat them to it.

She braces her arms on the tree in front of them and thinks. Three to their right, two to the left, four behind them.

Three, two, four.

Her full magazine only has seven bullets. She needs nine, and that's assuming she has perfect aim. But there would never be enough time to reload without being aimed at and fired at, and knowing Gold, all of these guys are magnificently trained.

They could just run and hope that they are faster. Or Henry can run one way and Regina the other, she could make noise, a loud distraction while Henry slips away.

No. There's too many of them, all it would take is for one to notice Henry and then he would be in trouble.

They can't do that. They're trapped.

She looks around frantically, over and over, hoping that each time she might catch a fresh escape, but there's nothing. That is until she throws her head back and notices all the sturdy branches looming above them from the centre of the tree that they are cuddling into.

Not the best of plans. It's not perfect, but right now it's all they have. And they have to go. Now.

"Up," Regina whispers, moving away from Henry's back.

Henry looks up and clues into the plan right away, but he suggests, "You go first, then pull me up."

"No," Regina helps by lifting him. If they catch her, she can weasel her way out of it, if they catch Henry, they'll take him to Gold - a fate she would wish upon no one.

She pushes and lifts him as high up as possible so he can latch onto the sturdiest arm of the tree. It's high. She palms underneath the soles of his shoes and pushes to help him as he pulls up his own weight until he sits firmly above her.

She peels off her backpack and tosses it up to him. "Keep climbing," she whispers.

She's going to have to run and jump this one, and even still, it's going to take quite the effort - she'll most likely have to push off the tree trunk as a boost. So she takes a few steps backwards and lunges ahead in a sprint, kicks of the trunk, just like she thought she would have to, and reaches high for the branch.

She grips it for just a second, but not as strong as she needs to. She slips from the bark and lands with a thud on the ground, the back of her head smacking into the dirt. The angle she collides with the earth's floor is winding. All the air in her lungs is pulled away violently, she groans as quietly as she possibly can.

She hasn't much time to register much of the pain, Robin appears out of nowhere, gliding through the trees, wrapping his bow around his body. He lifts her until she is standing and then he helps her the way she had with Henry.

His palms settle on the curve of her ass and he pushes her up quickly until she can swing her arms and legs up and around the branch of the tree.

"Go," Robin grits through his teeth, throwing up his bow to her. She looks up and notices Henry is only a few feet above her. Standing carefully on the branch, Regina passes Robin's bow up higher to Henry and is about to continue upward until she hears a familiar grunt.

Robin's failed attempt is anything but quiet. A soft thud and a pained groan, the telling signs of someone trying to make the same jump she just poorly executed. They both look around for another way for him to climb, but their enemies are closing in. They've seconds before they will be spotted.

Regina drops to lay across her stomach on the arm of the tree, a quick decision, locking her ankles underneath and reaching her arm down to him. Nodding at the idea, he makes the high jump again and this time clasps tightly onto her arm. She pulls him up as much as she can, he leverages with his feet off the trunk,like it were a simple climbing wall exercise and her arm is the rope.

She pays a great deal for the quick decision, not the best thought out of ideas. The strain, the stretch, his weight, the not quite healed wound on her side. None of it is a good combination. The pain rips through her torso first, then she feels the warmth and damping of her shirt, but she doesn't let up, keeping her grip until he can swing himself up just like she had.

She moves, gives him the room and climbs a few arms higher. Henry is comfortably stowed away just around from them and Robin hurries to climb higher, but he has to stop, his chest flush against Regina's back, balancing awkwardly on the thin support.

The voices of the danger below them are clearer now - conversations being shared that make no sense to them.

Robin steadies himself behind her, holding suddenly onto her hips when his balance catches. He must feel the blood that is soaking through her shirt because he curses so very quietly under his breath and slides his hand under her shirt, placing his palm flush over the gushing tear in her skin and presses down hard. The placed pressure makes her grimace, dropping her forehead forward against the bark, her eyes closing firmly, waiting for everything to be clear below them.

"Deep breaths," Robin whispers onto the back of her neck, just to the left of her hanging braid. He leans in closer and breaths heavily against her, giving her a deep rhythm to follow as his chest rises and falls.

Together, they breathe. In and out for five more minutes or so, until the voices become distant noise and there are no footsteps in their earshot. Though, they wait for a minute or two beyond that in case of stragglers.

"Alright," Robin whispers against her skin again and steps away. "Pressure," he tells her, asking her to place her own hand where his was before, "I'll help you down after Henry."

Robin climbs down the tree, dropping the few feet that were a bugger to climb. Henry scoots passed Regina and drops the bags and the bow to Robin below.

He helps the teenager down, but instantly focuses all his attention back to her, hushing Henry's apologies, "Not now."

Pressing on her side, Regina works her way down the tree, Robin offering a hand everywhere he can, even in places it's not necessary. She fights through the pain, catching her weight on the hands that she has to perch on his shoulders.

"You're hurt," Henry notices, guilt ridden and dripping with apologies.

Robin snaps then.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He leaves Regina to hold her own weight up, which she's more than capable of now, at least at a standstill. "Have you any idea what would have happened to us if we were spotted?" Robin lifts his blood stained hands, her blood drying on his calloused skin, showing Henry the blood that was shed, the stains that could have been avoided. "You're lucky this is the worst thing that happened."

The more Robin speaks, the angrier he becomes, and the more Henry listens, the more tears gather in his eyes.

"Robin," Regina steps in, smiling comfortingly at Henry, any attempt to ease the situation. She gets Robin's attention, but his disappointed glare doesn't falter. "Maybe we should move away from here?"

"Yeah," Robin grunts. They are far too close to this base camp for comfort. He snatches his bow from Henry's feet along with Regina's bag. "Are you coming with us or are you embarking on another suicide mission?"

Henry is devastated, feeling the consequences of his actions in the form of Robin's disappointment.

"I'm coming back."

"Right."

Robin offers Regina a hand that she happily takes, letting him carry some of her weight on the arm he loops around her follows them, keeping a distance but not enough of one to worry her. They're silent bar Robin asking if she's okay every ten minutes.

Part of her wants to say something to defuse the tense situation, but this one might be something to let play out and happen naturally.

Whatever happened between them must have been drastic, so she wonders about it for much of the walk back. The day she left, you would have had to rip them apart and they would have put up one hell of a fight. He must have left voluntarily, at least that is what she has been able to decipher so far. Henry is a smart kid, whatever went on must've tangled his heartstrings, but she won't know until they finally arrive to wherever it is that Robin is guiding them to.

She's fine after a few hours, better anyway. The bleeding has stopped and the pain is minimal. She doesn't need his support for as long as he provides it, but she doesn't want to be rude. Eventually, she moves away fully. He questions if she is alright to walk alone, and she is. But he won't give her the bag to carry.

"We're almost there," Robin mutters, pointing ahead to the residential area.

They near the house and David comes outside, waving at the trio as they approach. Roland stays inside at the window but waves all the same. Robin stops, Regina following suit and they wait for Henry to near them.

"Robin, I'm so sorry," he pleads, close to tears in an instant.

Robin can't look at him, "Just go to David."

Henry spares Regina a disheartened look, to which she smiles softly and sadly at him. She hates the wedge that appears to have been shoved between the pair, but some things just need to be felt before issues can be properly resolved. Robin's angry, Henry's upset, she has to let them be for a minute.

Saying that, Robin might be taking it all a bit far with his silent treatment.

"You know, making him feel worse won't fix anything," she tells him calmly, and if only he could respond as such.

"This is your fault," he flips to look at her. He's conflicted, angry, his mood has completely mirrored in the space of a second and she's confused. "If it weren't for you running off overnight like that, he never would have considered it an option in his head."

She scoffs a laugh, completely unamused but she knows where it's all coming from. At first, she thought the emotion he needed to work through was anger, but it appears to be something else.

"What did you do?" She narrows the conversation back towards him, twists the blame game.

"What?" He pulls away, creating space between them, folding his arms.

"You're very quick to place blame here," she stares him down, "That screams  _guilt_. What did you do?"

"Nothing," he defends, frustrated to no end. "For all I know he was off trying to find you." That's a lie. A lie as clear as day. He knows exactly why Henry walked out and he is converting all of his guilt into falsely placed blame and aiming it right in her face, but he struggles to keep it up. "I mean, he  _was_  upset yesterday when we spoke. He was saying… No.  _You_  ran away to get away from your problems and he thought that was the only thing to do when he was scared."

Self blame can tear you apart. She knows that. His little slip up sheds light on how horrible he feels, but he's not ready to accept his part in it all quite yet.

She realises that she needs to lighten the mood, so she sighs and bring two clenched fists up in front of her face, ready to box him if necessary, but she knows it will never come to that.

She purses out her pouted lips and narrows her eyebrows playfully, "Come on, let's go," she says.

"What?" He's confused again.

"You're frustrated, you're angry. Punch it away," she smirks for added measure, ensuring he's aware that she is joking, "I'll even let you get a few good hits in before I take you down."

It works, apparently. He laughs softly, a light sound. He lets the stress in his face muscles fade away and pushes her fists down back to her sides.

"It wouldn't be a fair fight," he sighs heavily, releasing as much of the pent up worry that is still lingering. "You're injured," he jokes. She's happy that he is easing up a little, the tension clearly letting off throughout the rest of his body and allowing his muscles to relax even more. "I'm sorry," he apologises for the accusation, "It wasn't your fault. I just...You're right… It was me. I suppose I should talk to him."

Robin smiles gratefully, exhales, and begins to turn away, but she catches his arm.

"Uh, maybe I should talk to him first?" She suggests, "You're still pretty worked up. Being filled with emotion and having unpredicted outbursts is fine when you're talking with an adult," Robin is listening to her intently, considering what she's saying. "Saying something in the heat of the moment to a thirteen year old isn't as forgivable."

Robin inhales, taking his shoulders high with him, and drops them again. She's made him think, anyway.

"Again, you're right," he admits. "Though I haven't a clue what I want to say. I am so angry at him, he scared me to a point I didn't think was possible."

"And that's okay," Regina tells him, "You're more than entitled to that emotion, but you aren't going to move past this or redevelop any trust without explaining to him  _why_  you're angry and why he scared you so much." Robin nods. "Why don't you take a walk?" She suggests further, "Do a couple of laps and figure out what you want to say to him."

"I'm not sure I even know why I am so angry," Robin mutters sadly.

Regina shrugs her shoulders knowingly, "You love him." Her statement hits him like a brick to the face. "What else is there to be sure of?"

* * *

David hugs her tightly, welcoming her back, Roland closing in afterwards, tackling her legs tightly. Ruffling the young boy's hair, she tells David that Robin is taking a minute, and he doesn't seem surprised by that at all.

Regina's injury doesn't go missed, of course it doesn't, but she tells him, "It's fine now." The tear is obvious, her shirt is horribly stained exactly where he knows her bandage should be, but she doesn't have time to be treated like an invalid right now.

"I'm going to talk to Henry," she explains. She's assuming he has ventured upstairs to one of the bedrooms since she can't see him. "But first, I have something for you," she kneels down slowly, careful not to damage herself further, and comes eye to eye with Roland's huge dimpled, smiling face.

"For me?" He asks, shocked but interested and excited.

Regina smiles and nods as she reaches into her bag, pulling out the stuffed monkey toy she had found a couple of evenings ago. As if his smile couldn't get any wider, he defies the odds, and squeals happily, taking the gift from her.

"A monkey?" He's hugging it close.

"I saw it and thought of you," Regina tells him. She is tackled lightly by his small body again, the toy wedged between them and his short arms winding around her as much as they can. He mumbles a series of thank you's on to the side of her head. "You're welcome, sweetheart." He happily runs off into the living room, monkey tucked tightly under his arm.

David helps Regina stand, and quips, "What, no gifts for your favourite?" He grins.

She smirks his way and bends to stick her hand in her bag one more time. From it she lifts out a full and sealed bottle of whiskey. A last minute find in the last residential area she rummaged through, it was high on a rotting fridge and she remembered how often David and Robin talked about how much they'd kill for a drink. She angles it in his direction, smirking even more so when his eyes bulge open.

"Goddess," he breathes out, taking the bottle from her. "We can have a drink later. Together," he says.

They will, but first she has to make sure Henry is okay. She pats David's shoulder after bringing out the large leather bound book that was tucked away at the bottom of her bag and climbs the stairs, searching the rooms.

Henry's in what appears to be the master bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. He doesn't bother looking at the doorway, not caring who it is.

Regina places the book, unnoticed, on the dresser by the door and takes a seat next to the worrisome teenager. She waits for him to speak first, lets him get the ball rolling.

"Are you going to yell at me?" He asks, "Because I'd rather you just get it over with."

"Nope. I'm not going to yell at you."

"Then why did you come up?"

Regina slaps her knees lightly to her thighs, "To make sure you're okay. What happened was scary, even for me."

"Yeah and it was completely my fault," Henry scoffs at himself. " _And_  you were hurt."

"What this little thing?" She indicates to her side, hiding the flinch as best she can. "Tis but a flesh wound."

There's a beat. But Henry laughs and shakes his head. Good. A smile. They've reached lighter ground.

"Monty Python?" He asks, looking at her finally.

"You a fan?" She asks, impressed when he nods his head. "The Black Knight has always been my favourite."

"Mine too," he smiles. "Robin will love that you know Monty Python, I'm sure he and my mom could laugh for hours over it."

The happy memory calms him, he's relaxing more and more.

"Your mom and Robin were close?" She asks. It's something she's been curious of, so she selfishly takes advantage of the conversation.

Henry nods his head, "My mom was in and out of foster care growing up. She said finding Robin was like being put in the worst home but finding the best big brother there. When we found each other, he kept us safe. No questions asked."

"He's a good guy," Regina agrees and she means it. Being torn about which direction to go, with that map in hand. It was Robin's honour and outlook on life is that drew her back in.

Henry's eyes droop again sadly.

"Why did you leave?" Regina asks carefully.

"Why did you?" He retorts, Regina yet again impressed and surprised at his speed and the wit in his voice.

Alright, she thinks. If she wants to open this up for answers, she has to be willing to be open too.

"I was afraid," she admits.

"Of me?" He frowns.

"No," she takes his hand, squeezes firmly. "Henry... I don't know how to be around people much anymore. I'm worried that I'm going to start caring for people and lose them." Regina squeezes again, "That's why I left."

"You started caring about us?" He asks, perking up slightly.

"I did," Regina admits freely, "And I still do, even after I left and  _that_  terrifies me. But it's also why I came back."

Henry tries to hide the smirk, but she notices it anyway.

"Robin said that you don't want me to go to Boston."

There has been a slight misinterpretation, so Regina sighs, "It's not that I don't want you to go." She lets his hand go and swivels on the edge of the mattress to face him more. He does the same. "Your immunity is spectacular. And you're right, you could save the world. But I am concerned that things may not work out the way you want and then you're going to feel disappointed." Henry lowers his head as she continues, "I am worried that you have placed too much responsibility on your shoulders." Regina lifts his chin with her knuckle, looking at him seriously, making sure he hears her. "It is  _not_  your job to make the world breath again."

Regina knows what it's like to feel responsible for things that she can't control, she knows the worry that comes with the fear of failing and the disappoint that flows through you.

"I know," Henry sighs, "But I have to do  _something_."

"Then why did you run?" Regina asks again, "Robin and David, even little Roland, they are all willing to go on this journey with you."

Henry frowns at the memory, recollecting Robin's conversation with David. "Robin worries too much about me, I heard him talking with David yesterday."

"It's normal for him to worry," Regina shrugs, "You're his family."

Henry knows that, Robin is the closest thing to a father he has ever known, but still, "You just told me I carry too much weight. So does Robin. It's not his responsibility to get me to Boston, no matter what he promised my mom. I don't know why he bothers, the only reason I'm important is because of that stupid bite."

"You're wrong," Regina tells him sternly, leaning forward slightly and pressing her forehead against him for a second before pulling back. "Immunity isn't the only thing that makes you special," Regina stands to get the book off the dresser and she gives it to him.

He palms delicately over the cover and opens to the first page, "Fairy Tales?"

"Why do you think people read Fairy Tales?" She asks him, curious to know what his answer might be.

"Because the heroes always win?"

"No," she laughs, "Fairy Tales give people hope. I saw this book and I knew I had to get it to you."

"Why?" He asks, looking up from the painted page.

"Because what makes you special is the way you give hope back to people," Regina makes her way to the bedroom door again. She's going to give him the time he needs to face Robin. But before she leaves, she adds for clarity, "And you made me feel hopeful again...  _before_  I knew you were immune."

* * *

She skips down to the first floor again, Roland is entertaining himself with the monkey happily, smiling and talking in a weird voice. All his youth and innocence warms her heart. She feels David scoot close behind her and they watch him play for a few seconds, pretending for that short time that maybe everything can be the way it was before, before the outbreak, before childhoods became nonexistent and pointless.

"Robin asked if I can look at that wound again?" David says quietly, standing behind her still. She nods and shuffles softly into the kitchen.

David doesn't follow right away, though when he brings her a spare shirt it's understood and appreciated.

She pulls her own shirt high over her head, carefully of course, slowly lifting her arms to ensure as little more damage as possible to her side. The shirt is disgusting, stained brown and reeking of iron, the dried blood a horrible reminder of their morning.

She's left clad in only a bra, but she doesn't care, who has time for that anymore? Even so, David is still a gentleman and turns away to let her change somewhat privately.

The dark grey shirt passes over her face as she slips it on. It's Robin's - a relatively clean smell, but consumed with the smell of the outdoors, forest like, in the best of ways. It's too big, hanging from her, but it's clean and that's all she cares about.

Looking back at her own shirt, she tries to decide whether or not to keep it, to try washing and salvaging it. There's no point. She tosses it into the far corner of the kitchen where she intends for it to stay forever.

"I'm good," Regina lets David know of her decency. "Thanks," she tells him as he turns and she lifts the bottom of the new shirt slightly, just enough to expose the now freshly ripped open scab on her side.

He looks at it closely, prodding around the edges with his fingers, she hisses in some spots, but it's most likely from the initial impact of the glass table.

"It looks like it tore open but you're fine," David straightens up again, "Let's clean it. The only thing I'd worry about is an infection."

The alcohol and rags are in his bag, just like before, so he reaches for the supplies from the kitchen counter. Soaking the rag in the disinfectant, he kneels down to the floor and presses it over her side.

"How long did it take you to realise that you missed them?" David asks. Whether or not it's a question to distract from the stinging, she'll never know, she chuckles at her own answer before she says it aloud.

"Less than a day?"

She may not have admitted it before, but if she's learned anything lately is that the truth sometimes doesn't hurt as much.

"Longer than I managed," he smirks, letting his eyes dart to hers for a tiny moment and falling back to concentrate on his cleaning.

"You left?" She asks, taking the offered bandage from him as he stands. She begins to wrap it around her torso, welcoming David's help each time she couldn't twist quite the right way.

"I did," he nods, "After our larger group was separated, I left late one evening to find my wife. I made it about an hour before I turned back." The bandage is sitting tightly, she lowers the baggy shirt to fall around it. "They're nice to have around, I don't blame you for missing them so quickly."

Regina smiles, touching his arms supportively, "Don't set yourself so short. I missed  _all_  of you." He blushes, but neither of them mentions it. Regina clears her throat, "Where's Robin anyway?"

"Sitting out back," David nods towards the back door. It'll soon be pitch dark outside, a collection of candles lighting the kitchen rather brightly, the same had been the case in the living room, but she notices the small glimmer of his flashlight through the glass of the door. David has poured some of the gifted whiskey into two glasses and gives them both to her. "He probably won't want to talk, but it never hurts to try." With the drinks now in her hand, David makes his way back to Roland and from the sounds of it, Henry is climbing down the stairs slowly. "Take your time."

Robin is sitting low on the porch, his legs dangling from the edge. It's not a high porch, but far enough from the ground that his feet don't quite touch the grass.

"I'm not in the mood, David," Robin sighs. He digs his palms more firmly on the wood by his sides.

"It's a good thing I'm not David then," Regina sits next to him, expertly keeping the glasses steady, no drop spilt. "Here," she gives him one of the glasses. She watches him toss the idea back and forward about whether to accept the glass, contemplating whether he wants her company and the burn more or less than being left alone.

She wins. He takes the glass from her and takes a hearty swig.

Robin's about to ask about her injury, but instead, "Are... Are you wearing my shirt?"

"Uh," Regina looks down and fists the baggy fabric, shaking it out in front of her, "Yeah. My shirt was horribly disgusting and I think David wanted me in a loose shirt."

There's no further comment, the conversation dies and allows the rustling of nearby trees in the wind to carry its way to the backyard.

"How'd you know I'd come back?" Regina asks, looking down to the glass cupped in both of her hands.

He snorts a short laugh. "You're welcome," he says cheekily about the map that she clearly found, but he continues to stare ahead, focussing on what's troubling him.

"It's not your fault," Regina watches him down the rest of his glass.

"Yes, it is."

"No," Regina says pointedly. She takes his empty glass and sits it behind her and gives him her half finished one. "Henry is a big boy. He made his own decision."

"He never should have overheard that conversation," Robin sighs, assuming that Henry has filled her in and his suspicions are correct - it is the conversation that made him run. He doesn't want to talk about that. Stressed, he scrapes a hand over his face. "What do we do?" He asks. About what? She wonders, but he answers before she can ask. "Emma is back there."

Robin's mind clearly wandered much further than only what he wishes to say to Henry, he did a lot of thinking. And that's fair, Gold's camp was right in front of them, it's only natural that Robin wonder - she's surprised Henry didn't mention it.

It's true, Emma might have been held captive inside. But Regina knows Gold, they have to tread lightly, no matter how horrible the truth may be.

"She  _might_  be in there," she amends. His agitated glance is expected, but it fades once he considers it. "You'd be better off killing yourself than attempting a rescue mission, especially when that's exactly what they want. There are more of them, they have more weapons, and they are smarter."

"That explains how they keep getting so close," Robin sighs, "Every time I think we are clear, they find us again. I don't know what to do. How do we escape them when it's like they have their own bloody copy of the map?"

 _That's it_ , she thinks, a lightbulb has just sparked to life.

"Why don't we give them one?" She smirks, convinced she has hit the jackpot with the idea. Though she presents it only as a suggestion, one she isn't sure he will go for. His face screams just how lost he is. "Let's _leave_  a map for them to find. Make it look accidental and make them think they are outsmarting us...but completely change our route. We can head north for a day or two first."

He's considering it now, realising its potential. "That's..." flabbergasted he shakes his head, but grins. "... That might actually work." They smile mischievously at one another, readying to discuss it further, but instead he teases, "And are we a  _we_  this time? You're coming with us?"

"I suppose I am," she grins.

Roland can be heard from inside the kitchen, asking fairly loudly where his papa is lurking, David hushes him, promising Robin won't be much longer.

"Can we discuss this tomorrow?" Robin asks, standing from the porch and offering a hand to help her up. "I don't want to get anyone's hopes up without planning it out carefully."

Taking his hand, she's standing before him in an instant, "Yeah, let's do that. I think I could sleep for a year after how long we walked today, not to mention the all nighter I pretty much pulled." She smiles at him somewhat awkwardly when she notices just how close their bodies are, how near their faces are. They are practically sharing breath and Robin still hasn't dropped her hand.

"What?" She asks nervously, only a soft whisper.

He looks at her thankfully, but like he's trying to solve a quiz, "Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

 _Oh,_  she laughs a quick breath out of her nose and bows her head. Part of her wants to divulge, but she's not quite there yet.

"Not yet," she mumbles, watching as his eyes soften while gazing at her own.

"What does a person need to do to be granted such an honour?" He asks, still standing unbearably close to her.

"It's not you," she assures, hoping that he hasn't felt responsible for her secrecy his entire time, "It's entirely a trust thing. The only person who can battle through it is me."

"Alright," he says, no questions, only understanding. He steps away finally, and she can finally breathe.

It's been a long while since she has felt like that - Nervous but ready for adventure, like you're falling but enjoying every second of it.

So when he opens the back door of the house and almost steps inside, "Wait..." He looks back, stepping out onto the porch fully again but keeping the door cracked a little. "...R." She tells him, simply a letter, but more than she's shared in months. "My name begins with an R."

The smile that lights up his face makes her stomach tangle in knots, welcome knots, but knots nonetheless.

"I'm growing on you," he smirks, a playful tone.

So she does what she does best and rolls her eyes at him, scooting past him into the house, "Don't push it."

His laugh carries through to the living room where everyone is preparing to sleep for the evening. Henry's on the couch but stands as soon as Robin comes into view. He's nervous as he stands, but Robin nods towards him and hugs him close. They share a soft exchange that she can't hear, but chooses to give them a little privacy instead of eavesdropping.

Roland is looking through Henry's new book, making up his own little story based on the pictures on each page.

So she settles next to him, "Would you like me to read it to you?" She asks.

"Yes," he says sleepily, letting her move the book to her lap. Roland snuggles into her side, squeezing himself under her arm until she lifts and brings him in fully.

She glances up at Robin who is bringing Henry into another hug, there are still issues to be sorted out, but they have made a dent, and he can't help but mouth a genuine  _thank you_  to her from the other side of the room.

Roland yawns loudly against her chest, she squeezes him in and begins to read, "Once upon a time..."


	7. Chapter 7

They decided to travel north after all, leaving behind a map at their last camp as a distraction, hope in their hearts that it will lead their captors in the wrong direction and buy them some time. But the worst thing happened.

Roland's sick.

Really,  _really_  sick.

It started as a tickle in his throat, one that he was able to ignore on their first leg to a new neighbourhood. But after a day of stressed walking, combined with the heavy downpour from the sky, he finds himself with an intense fever and a chesty cough that can be heard for miles.

Every time the small boy suffers a fit of crackling coughs, the kind the come from the depth of your lungs, it creates a deafening spatter of breath and each time Robin has to gather Roland in his arms and muffle the sounds into his chest.

Regina aches sympathetically for him. She has an instinct that screams at her to hold the boy close as well, hush away his tears and apologies, but she stays back with Henry and David, guarding themselves against the illness while Robin performs his parental duties, showing little to no concern about getting sick himself.

This new house isn't as ideal as they would have liked. It's a barn house in the middle of nowhere, a last resort, but the rain and Roland's predicament threw them off on another tangent. It's clear that an older couple lived here. There's a horribly patterned arm chair in the corner of the sitting room, pictures of small children hanging proudly on the walls. Grandparents that most likely once baked cookies for their joyous children are not out in the wild somewhere mostly dead.

"Go upstairs and check the medicine cabinet?" Regina asks David quietly.

He complies of course, taking extra precautions because they haven't quite cleared the entire home yet.

"What can I do?" Henry asks. He feels helpless and useless.

Regina thinks for a moment, "I don't know, sweetheart."

"I'm not worried about getting sick," he says bravely. That really is the only reason that they have all been keeping their distance. "We're family. If I get sick, I'll deal with it."

She smiles tightly and suggests, "I'm sure he would love to hear another story from your book. Why don't you read your next one together?"

"Good idea," Henry rummages in his backpack and sneaks into the living room. Robin looks relieved to see Roland light up a bit at the sight of the book, and he leaves them alone, slumping towards Regina sadly.

"You okay?" She asks, a stupid question but there is nothing else she can think of to say.

He shakes his head and clears his throat, the worry bubbling into his stomach, "He's never been this bad before."

"Guys," David calls to Robin and Regina as he skips down the stairs, "We are almost out of medical supplies and there's nothing here."

"There's nothing at all?" Regina asks.

David shakes his head, "The bathroom was ransacked, the bedrooms are empty of anything useful. I think someone must've been here before us."

Robin sighs heavily, bending slightly, stressed and Regina rubs his shoulder sadly.

"How much longer can he last with what we have?" Regina asks, squeezing Robin's shoulder before he stands up straight again.

"I don't think we  _have_  what he needs," David sighs.

He steps in closer to Robin and Regina, creating a smaller, more private circle to keep their conversation hushed from the boys. "This cough syrup isn't doing anything but bringing down his fever. I think it's pneumonia. He might need antibiotics."

"How can you be sure?" Robin asks, shuddering out a worried breath that he has been pushing down for miles. They all knew this was more than just a cough, it's too violent of an illness for that.

"I can't," he admits freely, "But his lungs crackle when he breaths, that combined with the fever and the shakes. I'd say it's a good bet."

"What do we need?" Regina asks David, "If it  _is_  pneumonia, what would be prescribed?"

"I have no way to test if it's viral or bacterial, but Levofloxacin would be a good start."

"Prescription?" Robin stresses, throwing his head back slightly. They didn't pass through a town on the way here, let alone pass a hospital or anywhere with those kinds of drugs.

"We need to find a pharmacy," Regina says. She sticks her hand into Robin's inside pocket for his map and unfolds it. She looks carefully at their location and its surroundings, noting the nearest towns. "There's a town about six miles from here, it looks small though, there may not even be a pharmacy. There's a bigger one ten miles away." She folds up the map again, gives it back to Robin. "We should go to the larger town, there'll be a pharmacy there, maybe even a clinic."

He nods, it is their only option after all.

"Alright. Let's go?"

She looks outside. It's almost dark, there are maybe two hours left of sunlight for them to work with, plus the sky is turning a darker grey, rain is about to come crashing from the sky again.

"We could leave now, but we're tired, we'd move slowly, we'd be travelling in the dark. Why don't we rest and we can head out at the first crack of dawn? David, will you be okay with the boys tomorrow?" Regina suggests, placing another comforting squeeze onto Robin's shoulder.

"Of course, it's not a problem," David offers.

Robin wanders from the circle, watches Roland from the hallway. He's worried, they all are.

A simple illness is one thing, but pneumonia is a different story, it's serious. It kills.

"He's going to be fine, I promise" Regina whispers.

"I'm going to clear the rest of the house," Robin shrugs away from her promise, sniffs away the worried tears and clambers up the stairs. Regina lets him go, lets him have that time alone, at least he's emoting and expressing it as much as he can.

Roland smiles to her from the couch. It's her favourite thing about the little guy. No matter what his mood, no matter what is plaguing him, he will still smile sweetly. He waves her in, and she wouldn't dare deny him the company. She sits next to him, wedging him between her torso and Henry.

"How are you feeling?" She asks him.

"Better," he mumbles, leaning back into Regina's chest and she hugs him close.

"I'm glad," she whispers into his hair, pressing her lips softly onto his scorching, feverish scalp.

Henry continues to read, he makes it through two more stories before Roland is snoring soundly in Regina's arms, twisted, his arms looped around her torso tightly. The sun is providing little light anymore so Henry closes the book.

Everyone is tired after their travels, sleep will come easily even to those without an illness. Henry stands and helps Regina to her feet with Roland still wound around her.

"You're still hurt," he whispers, "Want me to take him?"

Henry opens up his arms to gather Roland, but she shakes her head, "No, I've got him. Get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow."

Smiling, Henry nods and tells her, "Back at you, R."

Robin couldn't keep his mouth shut after she divulged her initial and now that initial has become her identity and with it came the constant guessing of her full name. They've made some interesting attempts, to be fair, and it does make for good conversation.

David is adamant that she doesn't look like a Ruth, but it is his mother's name so he is biased. Henry is toying with Rachel or Rebecca, and Robin went out of the box and suggested Riley. Then there was sweet little Roland asking her if her name was  _also_  Roland... that made the entire group chuckle.

Robin and David hear Henry climbing the stairs and meet Regina at the bottom. Robin doesn't ask for Roland to be switched into his arms, it's clear that Regina intends on letting the boy rest right where he is. They bid each other a goodnight and Robin settles into a room alone while David enters the one he is sharing with Henry.

Regina closes the door behind her quietly, feeling her way around the darkness of the bedroom. Quickly with one hand, she disarms herself, dropping her knife onto the bedside table and slipping her gun under the pillow, then she settles onto the bed with Roland who mumbling incoherently into her chest.

She is more tired than she thought and lets her mind drift, closing her eyes.

* * *

_They were ambushed before, a swarm of the undead ravaging through what they thought was their safe house. The screams of their friends tore through the walls and everyone disbursed to fend for themselves._

_She and Daniel ended up in a room at the back of the house. They couldn't open the window at first, so Daniel blocked the door with the dresser. Her heart was beating so fast as others called out for them, begging for help, screaming._

_The door was being pried open by hissing creatures and Regina broke open the window with her elbow, a drastic attempt at freedom, but it worked, and just in time. The door was pushed open just as Daniel helped Regina skip over the window sill._

_She turned to pull him through, but he was caught, dead arms clawing onto him and trying to pull him in._

_She gritted out his name as she played tug of war with Daniel's body._

" _Let me go," Daniel yelled fighting against what was attacking his legs, "Run!"_

" _No!" She screamed back and pulled with every ounce of energy she had._

_Daniel was kicking with everything he could and there was finally a moment where he was let free, but teeth clamped into his calf, ripping away at his flesh and he screamed out while Regina tugged him through._

_There was blood everywhere, gushing from the new wound in his leg, but there wasn't a second to look at it, Daniel grabbed her hand and they ran. They ran for what felt like hours. Her muscles ached, her lungs burned, and she worried dreadfully every time Daniel hissed in pain._

_They stumbled across a stable, it was free of horses, free of the undead. It was the safest place for them at the time. Daniel collapsed into a pile of hay, sweating profusely, he was delirious, slurring his words._

" _Shit," Regina groaned as she lifted the leg of his pants. The bite was obvious, still bleeding, the skin around it veiny and dark, bruised._

" _Be careful," Daniel slurred. He pulled away his leg to keep her from the infection. She moved to look at it again, he pulled away a second time. "Keep away."_

" _I have to clean it," Regina told him, looking around for anything that she could use._

_There was nothing. No water. They didn't have their bags. They didn't have anything._

" _Regina," Daniel coughed, pulling her out of worried thought, "This is it."_

" _No," she bit, walking around aimlessly. She looked back at him, his eyes were bloodshot, his movements forced. "No."_

" _Come here," he coaxed, stuttering and gulping heavily, asking her to kneel back next to him. She did and he reached into his back pocket awkwardly._

_He gave her a gun. The gun she has refused to touch, let alone use. She shook her head and refused the weapon like she always did, but he dropped it into her hands._

" _I won't," she told him tearfully. "You're going to be fine."_

" _I'm going to turn," he slurred, "I can feel it."_

_She bent over into herself and sobbed into her knees. This was her worst nightmare, something she kept to herself but that woke her at night. She clung onto the weapon she didn't know how to use, gripping the handle._

" _I can't," she cried._

_She knew she had to, she couldn't handle letting him turn and possibly attacking her. That's the last thing he would want._

" _You have to," he reached his trembling hand to her. He was almost gone, his voice was so different and the twitching of his limbs was anything but voluntary. "Kill me, Regina."_

* * *

"Wake up!"

She is being shaken softly, a strong hand on her shoulder as Roland is still wrapped around her middle. She is drawn from her nightmare so violently, she is lost for a second, blinking furiously, and so thirsty. Her throat is so dry and she breathes out heavily, clinging to the young boy's feverish body like it's her lifeline.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, careful not to wake his sleeping son.

"You were crying," Robin tells her, settling on the edge of the bed, squeezing her knee supportively.

"I'm fine," she dismisses. "Sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't, I was coming to get you anyway. The sun is rising, we.." Her breathing is deep and shallow, so he stops to ask again, "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Drop it," she murmurs and carefully unhooks herself from Roland's grip and leaves him in the bed. He turns away, curls into himself and Robin drapes the comforter over his body, swiping his hand lovingly over Roland's sweating forehead.

"I'm sorry if he seemed too clingy yesterday," Robin apologises.

Regina shrugs her jacket on, picks up her knife from the table, "He didn't." Under her pillow, she gets her gun, but given her nightmare, she shivers while picking it up this time.

She has only fired that gun once in her life and she only ever will again if she absolutely has to.

"What's wrong?" He tries to comfort her again.

She jumps slightly, but shakes it off like she always does, "Nothing." The gun wedges in her jeans, she's ready to go, but the young boy is still fast asleep, "Should we carry Roland through to David?"

"I'll do it," Robin picks him up from the bed and heads to the door. "Take a minute?" He offers, he's not an idiot, he knows she is being less than honest about her feelings.

It's been a long while since she has had that dream, re-lived that moment. Taking Robin's advice, she heads downstairs quietly and grabs a full bottle of water, twists the cap off, and pours some into her hand to wipe over her face, cooling herself off, hoping to shake away the horrific nightmare.

It works for maybe a second, so she does it again, soaks her dry skin and sighs. Tipping the bottle over the top of her head, she lets the cooler liquid soak into her hair, drip down from root to tip. Carefully, minding the way her torso stretches, she reaches back and pulls loose the relatively tight french braid. She opens another bottle, one she recognises as her own, the black question mark still scribbled on the plastic, and she pours that over her head, not a care for the mess she is making of the rest of her clothes and the floor.

Her hair is much longer than she would usually have it, falling at least two inches below her shoulders. It's not necessarily thick hair, but she has lots of it and until now she has never really considered cutting it. It might sound silly, but every time she notices how long it has gotten is a reminder of how long she has survived. With no ticking clocks or electronic calendars to note the days, this visual representation of time is all she has.

There are scissors on the counter next to David's bag and for a second she considers the swift snip, but Robin arrives downstairs first moving her attention away from them.

"You're all wet," Robin notices. Regina shoots him an unamused glare accessorised with an eye roll.

"Nice to know your eyes still work," she huffs and slowly reaches up to tie her hair carelessly in a bunned mess on top of her head, she does it quickly, lowering her arms to lessen the strain on her injured side; she's so close to getting full mobility back and the potential to not have it rip open again. She has really been trying to take it easy.

"Sorry," she breathes, "That was mean."

"You have a sharp tongue, I'm used to it," he dismisses, shrugging his shoulders. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

"I am." Robin doesn't believe her, it's written in the lines of his face when he scrunches his nose, unamused. "Are we going?" She asks, shifting uncomfortably and picking her satchel up and leaving. He follows right behind her, having the decency to keep his mouth shut for most of the way.

They walk for thirty minutes or so and they stop. Regina opens her water and takes a hearty swig, avoiding the beating sun under a tree. She offers Robin the bottle and he does the same, gulping a few times then giving it back.

"Are we definitely heading the right way?" He asks, not meant to be doubting of her directions, but just as a measure to double check.

"Yes," she points straight ahead, "That's East, we should reach the town if we keep heading this way."

"How are you so certain that's east?"

It's not that he doesn't believe her, he's only curious. But she smirks, licks the tip of her forefinger and sticks it up into the air, twisting her face to seem as if she is focussing.

"You know the direction based on the wind?" Robin scoffs.

Snorting, she drops her hand. She shakes her head and throws him a small gadget from her jacket.

He catches it easily, "A compass?"

"Now you know my trick," she laughs and continues forward. "We should be there soon."

They walk again, weaving between trees but keeping the same general direction. Robin fiddles with his bow, the silence getting to him after their small joke, but he chooses to let her mind wander alone instead of throwing her off.

But she's right, they hit the town pretty soon and it is deserted.

Completely abandoned and left that way in a hurry.

"Over there," Regina points. The pharmacy is in the distance and they creep through the town quietly, on edge.

It's almost like being in a vacuum and trying to imagine these streets full of life is difficult. Cars are abandoned randomly in the streets, some on the sidewalks. Looting must've been an issue near the beginning, store windows are smashed and stores bare.

"I can't believe this happened," Regina whispers, mostly to herself.

"I know," Robin agrees. "Do you ever wonder where you'd be if it never did?"

All the time.

She thinks about it all the time. Daniel would still be alive, maybe they would have actually gotten married. Kids were always out of the question, at least through conception, but they'd talked about adopting on numerous occasions. If none of this ever happened, she wouldn't have to know how to purify water or how to defend herself from ruthless creatures.

She always thought normal was overrated, but now she'd give anything for that normal life.

"I try not to think about it," she sighs, lying. It's too difficult. She's only reminded of the pain, of her loss, of everyone's loss. Regina clears her throat, "What was the name of that drug again?"

"Levofloxacin."

They near the building,  _Horowitz Pharmacy_  spaced across the top of the structure in big red letters. It looks pillaged, the high windows are smashed, but the door is chained together tightly.

"I really hope it's in here," Robin mutters, pulling on the chained front door. He reaches up to grab at the window sill and pull himself through, handing Regina his bow. He leaps over, his boots crunching on the glass below his feet and he helps her over, minding her injury. "You alright?" He asks.

"Yeah," she gives him his bow. "Let's just get what we need and go."

The shelves are empty, necessities already ravaged bar the odd aspirin packet here and there, the odd water, she picks them up as they walk to the back of the building, stuffing them into her coat and side satchel.

When they reach the pharmacist's counter, Robin leans his bow against a shelf and hops over. Regina does too, and he is already looking through the medicine cabinets.

Together they rip through the plethora of bottles and boxes, white stickers printed with weights, symptoms and chemical names that might as well be another language. There's probably a pill dispensing method that neither of them is aware of, so they just rummage like savages for Roland's saviour.

Regina comes across a few that are close. It's infuriating. Excitement bubbles in her stomach every time she thinks she has it, then reality crashes down when it's only a drug with a similar generic name, and she drops the wrong pills to the ground.

The last bottle she drops pops open, pills scatter to the ground and something sends a chill up her spine. She shivers for a moment and catches sight of a shoe that doesn't belong to Robin.

Carefully she lifts he left gaze and comes eye to eye with the undead face staring at her. She stiffens, thinks quickly and watches Robin continue to scan medical bottles in her peripheral vision, completely unaware.

"Robin…" she hisses as quietly as humanly possible. Too quiet. Robin doesn't hear her at all.

The zombie starts to sway from side to side but doesn't let its glare drift. It's eyeing her up. Its skin is dark, dead, flesh ripped from its cheek, but somehow it's glasses haven't budged and remain in place. The lab coat around the monster hangs from its shoulder - it's filthy, stained with dirt, blood stains of varying colours.

 _Adam_.

Its name tag is still pinned to the lab coat, near the breast pocket. The zombie's gaze moves to Robin, who just threw a pill bottle behind him in frustration and Regina's heart lurches to her throat.

But it doesn't move. It's as if the thing is taking its time to note every little detail, spending time for form the intricate plan it needs to ruin their lives, to end their existence as a functioning being, reducing them to nothing but a mindless, aimless body.

"Robin…" she hisses again, louder this time and the zombie's eyes latch to her again.

She swears it smirks at her, taunts her.

"Hey," Robin announces excitedly, "I found it!"

At the exclamation, it makes a move, pushing against the floor and launches towards Robin as he turns around, teeth primed for the kill.

She freezes when Robin grunts in surprise and begins to fight back against the monstrous strength of the disgruntled pharmacist. Robin flips the dead weight over to the ground and jumps back over the counter, shouting for her to do the same.

When her feet plant on the ground, Robin tosses the pill bottle at her to stick in her coat and he aims his bow over the counter, waiting for the beast to stand up again.

"Are you hurt?" She asks, watching carefully with him.

"No."

The zombie moans and groans as it stands, then it faces them from behind the counter, a small barrier. Robin pulls his arm back, readies to fire.

"Wait," Regina pushes on his elbow and he lowers the weapon.

It's glaring again. Staring at them and Robin notices it too. It's as if the creature is aware of its power, knows the ability it has to destroy everything and it couldn't give a care in the world.

"Can I kill it now?" Robin asks, shaking away the creepy feeling.

"Please."

She steps back to give him the room to aim and fire, but he does ask, "Unless you would like to?" And references to her gun.

"Just do it," she waves his attention back to over the counter but it's gone.

It's fucking gone.

She and Robin start to look around frantically, pressing their backs together. It's nowhere in sight.

"Let's get out of here," Robin whispers over his shoulder and she nods.

Together they scoot up the aisle to the window they jumped into. They walk quietly, careful of anything that could crunch beneath their feet when something grabs at Regina's ankle from one of the shelves.

The zombie has snuck along the floor one aisle over and has pulled her to the floor from through the gaps in the shelf. She hits the ground and starts kicking violently at the arms holding her down. Robin pulls at her shoulders and they fight it together.

"Get the door unchained!" Regina yells at him when she breaks from the grip. Robin sprints and starts slamming his weight against the chains. They haven't the time to escape through the heightened window as they came in.

Trying to get up, Regina's hair comes loose and the zombie tugs on it, dragging her back down to the ground. She fights again, scolding herself for skipping the time to braid her hair again - that never would have come loose.

She pulls herself up after slamming her head back to the ground, smashing its fingers onto the floor and breaking free. When she stands, she pushes the shelf over to trap the zombie below and runs back to help Robin. They loosen the chain, it's so close to breaking now, especially with both of them hammering at with their weight.

But Regina is pulled back, dead hands grabbing her shoulders. She grunts and pushes it to the floor and instinctively points her gun, aims it at the head, her finger is on the trigger but hesitant.

It stands up slowly and smirks again. Regina can see how it doubts her. It can see the bluff behind her action. It knows she isn't strong enough to fire that gun again somehow.

"Do it!" Robin yells from the door, still smacking it violently with his whole body.

Regina scrunches her eyes closed, tries to pull the trigger.

"Do it! What are you waiting for?" He yells again.

"I can't!"

* * *

" _I can't," Regina cried, lowering the gun for the umpteenth time._

_Daniel reached up and pointed her arms toward him again, "Do it, Regina. I don't want to hurt you." His eyes changed then, the life sucked from them suddenly, and with what she is sure was his last humane thought, he begs her again, "Please, let me go."_

_She pulled the trigger with her eyes closed and the world became deathly silent. And for at least five minutes, she didn't dare open her eyes._

* * *

She drops the gun to the ground once the shot rings out and she backs away, backing into the wall and lowering to the ground.

Robin stops his violent attempts at the door now that the danger is gone, officially lifeless. He picks up her gun and looks to her, concerned and confused. She's breathing heavily, focussing on nothing in front of her.

"What's happening right now?" He asks, kneeling down with the weapon gripped between his fingers. She can't bear the sight of it and looks away. Noticing her flinch, he puts it on the floor next to his feet. "Talk to me."

Regina huffs out a breath and pushes up off the floor and makes another attempt at the chain on the door. She throws her body against it angrily.

Once, twice, and a third time.

The third time's the charm, the chain snaps apart and the doors swing open. She catches her weight and stands outside taking in a deep breath and lets the sun beat down on her. Robin collects his things and creeps outside, trying not to startle her. He's still holding her weapon and offers it to her silently.

She takes it, but she shudders a sigh and stares at the metal.

"The first time I  _ever_  fired a gun," she tells him sadly, water gathering in her eyes, "I killed the love of my life." Her hands grip the handle so tightly and she sniffles away a tear, wiping her eyes quickly. "I hadn't fired it since."

He stands side by her side, "I'm so sorry."

"Can we just go back?" She throws the pill bottle back to him, "We got everything we came for."

"Sure," he agrees and they saddle up to leave, Regina leading the way again.

* * *

When they arrive back, David immediately goes about treating Roland, but Regina disappears upstairs and they leave her be, no doubt because Robin said to leave her alone.

Hours pass and Daniel's face skims her mind endlessly. She keeps closing her eyes and burying her face into the pillow but that does nothing to stop it.

She tries to focus on something else but that just leads her to think of the afternoon, and then she can't stop thinking about her hair getting caught in the pharmacy.

She pulls her hair out of the ponytail tail she tied on her way through the forest back to the house. It's a mess, in dire need of washing - God, she would kill for a shower, a hot, steaming shower. Peach scented shampoo, a bubbling soap.

Shaking away her unattainable wants, she combs her fingers through her hair and untangles what she can. There's a brush on the dresser, so she uses that, pulls at the tangled strands at the back of her head.

She tries to start the braid, starting at the top of her head, but the way she twists pains her side. Then suddenly those scissors from this morning seem appealing again. So, she skips downstairs silently, sneaking into the kitchen and picks them up, they hadn't moved.

She could just snip away herself, but she would look ridiculous.

"Robin," Regina appears from the kitchen with her hair down and erratic, evident she hasn't a clue what to do with it all. "Can you come and help me with something?"

"Of course," he responds, leaving everyone and the candlelight to go into her room. She has her own three candles lit and lifts the scissors and gives them to him.

He's understandably confused, but when she begins to toy with her hair, he realises exactly what it is she requires help with.

"You want me to cut it?" He asks reluctantly and teasing around the idea that she might regret it.

"It almost got me killed today," she says sadly, turning to look into the mirror on the wall.

"It was in the way for a second," he rebuts. "Sure, you fell, but you got right back up again. It could have easily been a limb it grabbed."

"Sometimes it only takes a second, we all know that too well. It's not worth the risk."

She frowns into the mirror, twirling the edges of the long tendrils in her fingertips. Daniel had touched these very strands, the uncut length had been woven into his fingers.

"Just do it," she huffs while sitting on the bed.

"Why not just tie it up? That kept it out of your face before."

" _Before_  I could braid it, I can't do that anymore."

"Why not?"

Regina lifts her arms to show her how she hisses and squints her eyes at the pain in her side when she moves that way, "I can barely lift my arms high enough to do it, let alone keep them up long enough."

"Do you  _want_  to cut your hair?"

"Not particularly, but I've very little choice unless you have a hidden braiding talent I'm unaware of."

Much to Regina's surprise, Robin tosses the scissors on the bed and stands, telling her to stay sitting where she is. He catches sight of the brush she just used and he combs through her hair a couple of times. It's soft and tug free when Robin starts separating sections and braiding expertly from the top of her head and carrying down.

"You can't be serious," Regina can't believe what is happening, she is watching him in the mirror as he kneels on the mattress to be high over her head and is concentrating intently on pleating her hair. "Well, you don't have a daughter…" Robin chuckles as she tries to decipher everything, "So that leaves a sister?"

"I'm an only child," he smirks in the mirror. She lets him choose to expand on the topic, keeping her glare focussed on him. "My ex-wife, when she was pregnant with Roland, she would get so agitated sometimes and she loved when I would play with her hair."

Regina smiles as he remembers, "You taught yourself how to braid her hair?"

"I did," he chuckles, "It became a nightly routine."

"Tell me about her," Regina requests.

"Marian?"

Regina nods, but sure to let him know that nothing is expected of him, he can change the subject at any time. He doesn't though.

"She was wonderful. Smart and funny. An absolute stunner, if I do say so." He smiles as he concentrates on his hands, getting slightly frustrated that he's gone wrong somewhere, missed a piece of hair along the way.

"So  _that's_  where Roland gets his good looks?" She teases, batting her eyes and grinning at his reflection.

"Now that is just mean." Feigning sadness with a palm against his chest, he lets her hair go and decides to start over, bringing about a soft giggle from her throat, but he starts up again right away.

"She was the most important person in my life," he says of Marian.

"What happened between you both?" Regina inquires curiously, tiptoeing around to avoid any much too delicate conversation.

"Nothing happened, but after a while, we began to drift apart, our love became something different."

There's a sadness in his face, she notes it before he smiles it away, but it was there.

"Different how?" She asks

"It was as if our relationship status was making things difficult. We were best friends for so many years before getting married," he drops a piece of hair accidentally, and she reaches up to grab it before it tangles with the rest. "Thanks, anyway, after Roland, after everything, we missed how it used to be so we mutually agreed to divorce."

"You stayed friends?"

"Absolutely. It was hard at first, getting out of that romantic rhythm, but once it all settled down, things were great again."

"And you shared custody?"

"There was never any contest to that, but then I had to move for work," Robin frowns, remembering the day he left; Marian's tears, Roland's confusion. "I saw Roland once every couple of months after that. Leaving them was the hardest thing I had to do. We tried to find her after the outbreak. I drove up north again, went to our old house, she was gone. She had packed up as much as she could, much of Roland's as well. I think we both tried to find each other and missed."

"Maybe you'll still find her yet," Regina smiles sadly.

"Maybe. Oh, she was wonderful. I think she would have liked you." He is reaching the bottom of her hair, looking around the bed for a hair tie.

"Yeah?"

Her hair band is around her wrist and she peels it off and hands it back to him.

"You're kind. You're fierce. You try to hide it, but I know you'd go to the ends of the earth for the people you care about," He says just as tied the pleat in place. "There, you're all done."

"I must say, I'm impressed," she admires it, turning her head from side to side to get a better look.

"As was Marian."

* * *

" _Where on earth did you learn to do this?" Marian laughed, leaning her head back as Robin crisscrossed the strands._

" _Just be quiet and let me work my magic," Robin laughed, biting his bottom lip in concentration. When he was finished, he admired his own work, though it was not up to par with the several tutorial videos he had forced himself through at work. "So, it's awful."_

_Marian laughed loudly, standing up minding her four month old bump and looked in the mirror. He was right, it was a mess, but the effort warmed her heart. Sitting back on the bed, she kissed him chastely, thanking him._

" _Why?"_

" _You said you wanted to be able to braid your hair. I thought if I learned then I could do it for you."_

" _You are the sweetest man to ever live," she caressed his face, "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you and for four years?"_

" _Seven years," he corrected, "If you count those pesky years we were friends." Robin reached behind him and gave her a beautifully wrapped box. She ripped it open curiously and with a smile. Inside was a golden chain, a small arrowhead dangling from it. "Happy anniversary."_

* * *

Regina listens to his story intently, but her heart stops when he mentions the necklace he bestowed. She reaches to her neck and prays she's mistaken.

"An arrowhead?" She asks. "On a gold chain?"

"Yes…" Robin is confused, tilting his head to the side to ponder her line of questioning.

"No way…" Regina whispers and stands from the bed, pacing around the candlelight and Robin watches her, following her around the room with his eyes.

"What?"

Regina reaches up behind her head and unclips the necklace from around her neck and clamps it into her hand, the metal warm from being under her shirt and against her skin. After a moment of deliberating, she dangles the chain from her fingers in front his face.

She is sure she is reading too much into it, but Robin's reaction to the dangled arrowhead begs to differ.

He all but snatches it away and inspects the pendant, glaring back to Regina sadly, "Where did you get this?"

"I…"

* * *

" _Come on, we have to go," Regina gritted through her teeth, trying to lift the sick woman up from the bed. She is a stranger. Ever since Regina and Daniel reached this house, this group of people, she has been bedridden and quiet, nobody knew much about her. But Regina couldn't leave her there, not with the danger lurking behind the door that Daniel had his body pressed against._

" _Regina, we don't have much time," Daniel yelled._

" _I'll slow you down," the woman told her, shoving away Regina's rescuing hands. "Leave me."_

" _I can't," Regina told her, "You'll die."_

" _If you take me, we'll all die," she said frantically. "I couldn't live with that." Regina dropped to the floor in defeat, she knew it was the truth. "I'm sick," she cried, "I'm going to die either way."_

_Among the chaos, the woman reached into her pocket and gave Regina a necklace. Daniel shoved a dresser against the door and ran over to pick up Regina._

" _We have to go," Daniel pulled her to her feet, but Regina dropped again and looked at the woman seriously._

" _Please," she begged, "Give me your gun." She looked at Daniel with the request, "I don't want to become like them."_

_Regina fought back the tears, turning away when Daniel gave her the gun that she was going to use. But she reached up to Regina and squeezed at her hand, "Find my family," she begged with tearful eyes, "Please tell them I love them."_

" _Where will I find them?" Regina asked, but the door is smashed open suddenly and Daniel pulled at Regina again, dragging her away from the danger and leaving the sick woman behind to meet her demise._

_He dragged Regina away before receiving a name or a location, all she had was this necklace gripped in her hand and the memory of a gunshot ringing from what was supposed to be their sanctuary._

* * *

"She's dead?" Robin grieves.

"Robin, I am so sorry," Regina whispers, stepping back and away from him, giving him space. He cracks, as suspected, begins to sob into his hand. Initially, Regina is worried about stepping in too early, but that is impossible.

For a man with so much hope in his soul, this news is killer, worse than any virus or outbreak that could occur. Regina kneels in front of him, lowering to the floor in front of the bed.

She grips his hand and tells him, close to tears herself, "She loved you. You were the last thing she thought of. She begged me to find you and to let you know that."

When Daniel died she felt empty and alone, she wanted to die. He squeezes her hand appreciatively, but his sobs turn into watery chuckles, confusing Regina. His laughter grows and she can't help but laugh nervously at him.

"What's so funny?"

"My biggest fear," he explains, "Was that she had become infected, that she would be stuck walking aimlessly around, alone and dead. But she isn't and I suppose I find my level of relief right now rather amusing. I'm happy that she's dead…  _actually_  dead."

Regina doesn't no the right thing to say, but it makes sense, "That sounds like twisted reasoning I would come up with."

"Deep down I always knew she was gone," he admits, then gazes down to her face. "Do you believe in fate?" He asks.

"No."

"What are the odds that the person I stumble across in a bloody apocalypse is the last person with Marian?"

He has quite a point, but she gave up on fate and destiny and happy endings a long time ago, "It is quite a coincidence."

"It's fate," he says confidently, wiping away at the tears left on his cheeks." We were meant to find you, you were meant to leave and then come back. You are what we need to get to Boston safely."

Robin gives Regina back the necklace.

"You don't want to keep it?"

"It was gifted to you," he clasps it in her hand. "Keep it. Please. If for nothing else, let it be a reminder that you are in the right place...R?" Robin asks to get her attention, they stand up together, then she is wrapped in his arms in a friendly embrace. He breathes into it and lays the smallest amount of weight on her.

"Thank you," he mumbles against the side of her head. "For everything, especially coming with us."

She shifts and returns the hug, pulling him a little closer, enjoying his warmth before he draws away, reaching into her hand for the chain and clips it around her neck.

"Don't mention it."


	8. Chapter 8

They crossed from Tennessee into Kentucky earlier this morning and both are utterly gorgeous in the Fall. The forests are filled with bursting oranges and reds but a stray lingering of green still exists. The leaves that have fallen from the trees crunch beneath their shoes, there's a crisp chill in the air but it's still excruciatingly warm as the sun beats down on their faces among the shadows cast by trees.

Nature wasn't really her thing before the outbreak, but seeing it now in all its glory makes her wish she had been more outdoorsy. She'd rather enjoy the colours and the freshest of breaths without the fear of being stalked or aching arms from carrying around a young boy for miles in order to stay alive.

She had just passed Roland back to Robin for the next leg of the walk. Roland isn't any better but moving became imperative. Sitting like targets in the same place wasn't wise, everyone agreed to that, so they started to travel again.

The only way to survive is to move, after all.

She estimates that they are twenty miles in, almost eight hours of straight walking and excruciating silence.

When Roland starts to cough again, Robin stops to give him a moment. It's horrific, worse if anything else, even after the days they waited like sitting ducks hoping he'd get better. The coughs explode from his chest, crackling, causing him to cry out in pain.

"He can't travel like this," David sighs quietly, turning inward to Regina to keep Robin from overhearing.

They both look ahead to Roland, Henry approaching their sides watching as Robin grimaces at his son's pain and holds him close against his chest. They could maybe get another twenty miles in with the sunlight they have left, but David's right. Roland can't walk anymore and everyone is far too exhausted to carry him, at least she knows her arms might fall off if she has to again.

"There was a farm house an hour or so back, back when there was that field on the left," David suggests.

"I saw it, too," Henry adds.

Roland coughs loudly again and she can't help but agree with the plan of action. It's all too much for him. Regina approaches Robin slowly, rubbing Roland's shoulder warmly as he continues to cough.

"We're going to backtrack," she crouches down to the forest floor, "Roland can't keep moving like this." Robin clamps his mouth together but nods appreciatively, pulling Roland in closely and whispering to him that he is going to be okay, that he'll get better.

They have been following the highway as they walked but stayed off the road in an attempt to better remain unnoticed, but she tells David and Henry to stay put while she checks something. She jogs towards the road, remaining alert, looking all around and she tentatively edges towards the slight hill up to the highway.

Emerging from the shadows cast by the trees, she has to cover her eyes stepping into the brightness of the sun and let her eyes adjust. She wants a better understanding of where they are. The map works most of the time, but it's easy to think you are further West than you are or further North. There's a sign in the distance but she can  _just_  make out the white writing on green:  _Lexington 20 Miles._

They're further than she thought.

She turns and looks at the miles and miles of endless road, not a car in view, the only sign of life being Roland's coughs echoing among the trees. She sighs heavily staring at the nothingness of Kentucky.

The group decide to head her way, coming out from the trees and join her on the warm concrete.

"It's as if we are the first people to ever find this place," Henry says, noting the silence.

"Are we ready?" Regina asks. "Maybe we can stick on the road for a while, the sunlight might be good for us."

Everyone happily agrees, David and Henry starting ahead right away. Roland is fussing into Robin's ear but she can't quite make out what he's saying.

"R?" Robin comes up close, looking at her apologetically. "He wants you." Roland twists in his Robin's arms and holds out for Regina. His face is washed white, the bags under his eyes are deeply defined.

"Of course." She takes him willingly and fights the dull ache in her muscles from the hours she carried him before. He is limp and wraps around her chest like a koala. She carries him all the way to the house, down the concrete then through the forest a bit more, and finally across the flat plain to such a beautiful wooden house. The wood is painted white, but not without the odd stain here and there. David almost jumps for joy when he notices the well in the backyard, they aren't low enough in supply to worry them, but it's nice knowing they have the resource right at their fingertips.

Regina, Roland and Henry stand outside while Robin and David roam the rooms inside. "I'm thirsty," Roland croaks against Regina's chest.

Regina let's one arm swing around to her backpack to get her bottle, but while balancing Roland it's almost impossible. "Henry, can you?" She turns and Henry reaches inside for the bottle, untwisting the cap for her too. "Here you go, sweetheart."

Roland pushes away from her chest and gulps quickly. Regina tells him to slow down, to try little sips instead. The last thing Robin needs to see is Roland throwing up as well as fighting with each breath he takes.

"We're all clear!"

Robin skips down the stairs from the porch, thrilled to see Roland pushed away from Regina's chest and having a touch more colour in his face.

"How are you feeling, my boy?" He asks. He doesn't try to take him, lets him remain comfortable in Regina's arms. He's content enough that it's for the best.

"I'm sleepy," he croaks, still grasping his little fingers around the plastic water bottle. He's doing so great, taking little sips just like she had suggested.

"So am I," Robin smiles slightly, rubbing up and down Roland's arm. "And I'm sure R would love to rest her arms…" He tries to take over, squeezing around Roland's sides to lift him away, but he frowns and begins to whine, curling back into Regina's neck.

"It's fine, Robin," she assures, ignoring completely how water is pouring down her side, Roland's tipping it by accident. "Really."

"Well, let's at least get you sitting down."

Robin places his hand at the base of her spine, some added support as she carries Roland inside. Henry decides to investigate around the house, looking for whatever he can amuse himself with, and David joins him. But Regina collapses on the corner chair in the living room, Roland whimpering away in her arms. Robin can see in the creases of her face just how pained and exhausted she is. When Roland's weight shifts from her arms to her lap, she sighs a relieved groan, dropping her head to the back of the chair.

"I think we're all tired," Robin says from the couch by the window, he's dropped down too.

David and Henry giggle from the back of the house, and Regina smiles, "Some of us more than others apparently."

"I think an early night sounds good."

"I second that."

"And me," Henry announces walking back in with David just behind him.

"There's a double bed upstairs," Robin looks to Regina, Roland still collapsed against her. He's barely moved. "Why don't we let R and Roland have that? I doubt we'll get him away from her tonight." Henry and David agree, Regina nodding and completely okay with caring for him over the night. "Henry there's a single room down the hall, why don't we drag the mattress through and the three of us can settle in here." Regina asks Roland quietly into his ear if that's alright with him and he mumbles  _yes_ against her shoulder. She pushes off the chair, Robin standing as well.

"Goodnight," Regina ruffles Henry's hair on the way passed, ignoring David's playful pout after being neglected of his own ruffle.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase, Robin brings chin up with his finger, peppering a kiss on Roland's forehead. Roland flutters his eyes open for his father. "Goodnight."

When he realises that he and Robin are about to be separated for the evening, Roland pouts heavily and clenches his fingers into Robin's shirt, pulling into him. Regina releases him easily into Robin's arms and basks in the feeling of having full mobility of her arms back, stretching them out in front of her.

"I guess you get the big bed," Regina smirks and rubs the back of Roland's neck. "Goodnight, sweetheart." She dots a kiss on the side of his head, but then she is met by the look he had just given Robin seconds before, a huge pout and sad, tired eyes.

"You come too," Roland yawns, reaching out for her hand with a grabbing motion. Robin coughs nervously and darts his eyes up to Regina, and she feels nothing but sympathy for the pair.

"Alright," she agrees and is surprised when Roland takes another lurch back into her arms. He can't decide whose warmth he wants to be enveloped in. "It's fine," she says to Robin who is looking at her now, feeling guilty for being any trouble. "Tell the others and I'll see you up there."

She lifts Roland up the stairs, shushing his whimpering, bouncing him just a little to soothe him any. In the bedroom, she considers laying him down first so she can disarm properly, but he has a vice grip around her neck, so she hasn't chance. Luckily, she can reach around near her back pocket and toss the gun on the bedside table, but the knife on her front isn't something she wants to balance him for.

Robin comes in then, he has left Henry and David to pull the mattress through themselves. "Could you?" Regina turns in the remaining daylight through the sliver of the curtains and points to the sharp metal on her front. He complies easily, retracting the weapon from the loop it hangs from and he places it next to the gun. "And my coat?" She balances Roland in one arm, letting Robin peel her jacket away on one side, then she switches and the other is pulled away. "Thanks."

Robin pulls back the comforter back for her and he awkwardly tiptoes around to the other side. Regina sits on the bed and lowers back, shifting and turning in towards the middle of the bed so that Roland's back is facing Robin and takes some of the weight off of her chest.

"Papa?" Roland coughs, jerking as his lungs are attacked, and Robin slips up close behind him, tells him that he's here while pressing against Roland's back and kissing the mop of hair just shy of his chin.

Roland falls asleep almost immediately after that, he shifts some, now completely strewn across Regina's beating chest. She has her arms wrapped tightly around him, Robin stroking the hand Roland has reached over to him.

"You're really good with him." His compliment comes in a whisper, the tiniest of voices to keep Roland from waking.

She and Roland have been very close lately, especially since the illness ran wildly through his body, though she is convinced he just misses his mother. "Thank you," she makes an effort at a smile.

"You didn't have any?"

"No," she says sadly. There's obviously no intention on Robin's part to make her uncomfortable or upset, but she's never been able to have this conversation with anyone without a shuddered breath or two, even some tears. But Robin has an ease about him, an aura that makes her want to open up. "I was never meant to be a mother."

He immediately scoffs, "Why would you think something like that?"

"No," she tries to clear up her words, settle her meaning. "I mean… I  _can't_ be a mother."

"The way you have been with Roland suggests-"

"No," she groans, only slightly annoyed. He isn't understanding her euphemisms or sugar-coating. "I physically can't," she sighs.

It's one of those things that always made her feel broken and unworthy. Even though her mother was long gone and no longer in her life, she would always still hear the nagging voice in the back of her head, Cora muttering off how Regina was  _useless_  or  _a bad suitor_. Though, much like Daniel, Robin seems to have another outlook on the situation.

The hand that was clasped in Roland's is now firmly in one of Regina's, squeezing comfortingly. "Conception is only the smallest fraction of being a parent."

"That's always what Daniel used to say." She focuses her eyes upward to the ceiling, but enjoys very much the way his calloused hand has fit into her own, she has to fight the urge to squeeze back or swipe her thumb along the top of his. "We thought about adopting at one point," she begins to tell him, wide smile and all, even though he can't see much of it in the darkness. "But work got in the way, and then money became an issue and then…"

"The apocalypse?" Robin asks freely, lightening the mood, and it works. She sniffles a laugh through her nose, just as Roland coughs into her, moaning and whining and twisting about, but he settles himself and the crackling coughs become soft, whispered snores again. "I'm really scared," Robin admits of Roland.

"So am I." She allows herself the chance to squeeze his hand back this time. "We'll stay put until he's better, okay?"

"Okay," he sighs and they let the silence settle around them like dust, but just as Regina feels her muscles become that heavy way, she hears him whisper, "I'm really glad we found you…"

* * *

Roland has much more colour on his cheeks in the morning and a bit more of a spring in his step, but David is whispering away to Regina and Robin about how important it is that they keep him on this road to recovery.

"He needs rest, I'd guess around three days, and his caloric intake needs to double," David explains. They haven't been starving but nobody is eating quite enough to fight an illness properly. They all huff in agreement, and when Robin starts to rummage through everyone's bags, they all do the same with their own. It's been a long while since they've taken a good note of what they have, so regardless of Roland, this is worth the time.

Tins are lined up on the countertop in the kitchen, all different shapes and sizes, some meats and fish, some fruits. Regina cringes at the peaches, she's had enough of those to last her a lifetime.

All lined up like this, it actually looks like they have a lot, but Regina is so used to only thinking in terms of one person. The realisation that there are five of them, one of them very sick and others with the potential of catching someone else along the way, the dire situation has light shed upon it.

"It's not enough," David whispers, trying not to alarm the younger ears. "It might last us, but are we willing to risk it?"

Regina creaks into the hallway and peers into the living room where Henry and Roland are sitting on the mattress, playing with the cards Henry found last night. She's happy they are unknowing of the situation, but Henry notices her and clues onto her worried gaze.

If they are going to stay here until Roland is better, they need more supplies, which means another adventure for Regina.

Robin and David make their way through to the sitting area when Regina announces, "I'm going to go into the city," with a slap to the tops of her thighs, met by looks of confusion from the boys, but Robin and David agreeing with her. "Lexington is only three or so hours from here. We need more supplies and not just food. I could look for ammunition, more weapons, anything really. I could go now and be back by dark."

"I'll come with you," Robin shifts into the sitting area to pick up his bow, but Roland latches onto his knees suddenly, begins to beg him to stay, pleading for him to sit down. He wraps his son back in his arms immediately, no question. He apologises to Regina, he can't go this time, not with Roland begging him so, and David ponders for a minute but she knows they need him with Roland, especially being the only one with any kind of medical experience.

" _I'll_  come with you," Henry pipes up, pulling on his oversized coat and readying himself bravely for a mission he doesn't know the details of.

"Not a chance." Robin doesn't allow any discussion on the matter, shutting it down the moment it's suggested. Roland has moved away from Robin now, no longer worrying that he would be leaving again.

Robin stands up to tower slightly higher over Henry as he argues furiously, "We can't let her go alone!"

She winces at the raised voices but has to pipe in with her agreement. "Robin's right, Henry. It's too dangerous and you need to stay safe."

Feeling slightly ganged up on, Henry groans and mutters under his breath and storm up the stairs, closing himself in the bedroom upstairs with a relatively loud slam of the door. "It's not that I don't think he can help or that you wouldn't keep him safe" Robin sighs into his palm. "I just have enough to worry about with Roland."

"We know." David says.

"I really don't want you going alone," he tells her, stepping closer into her space and rubbing up and down her arm. Knowing that he cares so much warms something in her belly and she smiles tightly.

"You know I can handle myself just fine," she winks and heads for the door, her almost empty backpack securely around her shoulders. "I should leave now, but I'll be back soon."

She swings the front door open and starts the way to town.

"Wait!" Robin shouts from the door and skips down the porch to her. He has his bow in his hand, the quiver to go with it. "Take this."

"What-"

"Just in case…" He says, helping her wrap it around her body, showing her the easiest way to let it hang from her shoulders. "This way you don't have to use your gun unless you  _need_  to."

He remembered. And her heart skips a beat. And she watches as he locks her close into his torso in an embrace, her chin perching in the crook of his neck. It's awkward at first, but just for a beat, then she finds herself liking it and she leans into it. But her breath hitches, suddenly caught in her throat. "Please be safe," he mutters into her hair before retracting back, coughing away the still slight ttension between them. "And come home to us."

* * *

She's had this feeling for the last mile or so. Every now and then she could swear she hears a crunched branch or a heavy exhale. She's pushed it away, assuming that maybe she's psyching herself it. She hasn't actually been alone in so long, it could just be a trick of the mind. But then she hears a groan and thud.

She's being followed.

Stepping close to a trunk of a tree, so readies Robin's bow. She takes a breath and in a swift, single movement she draws the arrow back and swings out from the tree.

"Whoa!" Henry yells, throwing his hands up on either side of his head.

Regina relaxes angrily, lowering her aim, "Dammit, Henry. Do you have a death wish?"

" _No_ ," he says, hands still held high.

"What are you doing here?"

"Robin can't tell me what to do," he whines and lowers his arms, crossing them into his chest.

She scoffs at him, "Robin wants to protect you and whether you like it or not… you are a  _child._  He is going to go crazy when he realises you're gone." She begins to walk the way they came, "Let's go."

"What?" Henry complains, throwing his arms out to the horizon just as Lexington is in view. "We're almost there, you really want to waste all that time just to take me back?"

She stops in her tracks and sighs heavily at the tactic. She hates that he's right, they'd have to wait until tomorrow to get anything if they go back now. So she turns back, "Fine. You can come. But you do exactly what I say. And so help me God, if you  _ever_  do this to Robin again, you are not only going to lose his trust but you'll lose mine." Henry gulps loudly, shaken by the first time she's come across angry with him. "Are we clear?"

He nods furiously before they continue on, this time side by side. He apologises a couple of times and she brushes them off, telling him that it's alright. Her anger has subsided for the most part, but she loathes to think how distraught Robin is going to be seeing that he is missing. Luckily for her, Robin trusts her, and she's sure he knows Henry would have followed her, that she'll keep him from harm.

As the approach the outskirts of town, just jumping off the highway road and onto the smaller streets, they stop for a moment to take in the peaceful chaos before them. Cars scattered everywhere, broken glass, blood spatters and puddles, and the dead silence accompanied by the whistling wind.

They walk slowly passed houses, through the streets carefully, Regina always looking out for lurking danger. She's spotted the odd zombie here and there, but she's hushed him and they've changed direction or cut through a street. She knew coming into the city that the probability of danger would be much higher, but she wants to do anything she can to keep them from being seen.

The undead lurk together, in pack. If one notices them, the others will clue on and they'll be in a world of trouble. And she needs them to avoid getting caught in a wave… From her old experiences, there's always a constant group of them just sauntering around, like a tide on a beach, a constant cycle. If they get caught in one of those… she doesn't know if they have a chance.

"This is incredible," Henry proclaims quietly in awe.

Incredible might not be the word she leaned towards, maybe eerie or creepy as hell would be better descriptions. They are approaching the main area of downtown. It's minuscule compared to the massive skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles. There are maybe three significant skyscrapers in the distance.

But something twinges in her stomach suddenly, a feeling just like before in the forest. She feels like she is being watched again. Every so often she throws her head back for a glance, but nothing. The on the seventh or eighth time, she catches a body before it crouches behind a car a block or so behind them.

"Henry," she says out of the blue, "I need you to not look, but there is somebody following us."

"A person?" Henry fights the urge to turn and see what she sees, but he abides by her request. "Who?"

"I don't know," she links her arm over his shoulder and pulls him in, whispering just in case there is more than one body scaling their surroundings. "Come this way," she says, pulling him off to the side, up an alleyway. There is a huge dumpster and she tells Henry to hide inside among the trash, luckily primarily cardboard and plastic. The lid has been snapped off but if he crouches down far enough, he can't be seen. She tells him to stay put until she comes back to get him, to stay as silent as possible and she hopes he actually listens this time.

Back at the edge of the alley, Regina peers around, sees the man following them and she decides that two can play at the spying game. He's looking for them and being confused after losing sight of them when they slid up the side road. He doesn't appear to be overly dangerous, his clothes are relatively normal for the situation and the way he is moving sneakily doesn't scream militant like she'd expect from Gold's men.

He's edging toward the alley, so she pulls back and waits, waits until he gets close. And at the first glimpse of him from around the corner, she grabs him stealthily, flips him down the ground face down and presses a firm knee down onto his back. He groans painfully, trying to shake her off, so she pressed her knee cap harder into his back.

"Alright, there's no need for violence," he coughs, struggling to breathe properly.

"Why are you following me?" She demands his answer, pressing more weight down when he clamps up. "You really don't want me to have to ask a second time," she threatens.

"Let me up and I'll have a nice chit chat with you," he drawls. His accent is English like Robin's, obviously from a different area, it's thicker, theatrical almost. " _Please?_ Look I even asked ya nicely."

Irritated, she stands off of him and drags him up to his feet, fisting on the back of his jacket, and shoves him against the brick wall, pressing the cool metal the her gun barrel against the back of his neck. He might not appear to work for Gold, but she isn't taking any chances.

He groans again into the brick, "Christ, I'd take the undead over you any day."

"Shut up," she demands. "Tell me why you are following me." She pushes the barrel forcefully into his neck, denting the flesh there.

He leans his forehead against the cold brick, "Okay, okay," he admits defeat and holds his arms up defensively. "The boy you're with, I know him. I travelled with him a while back."

"You're lying," she turns him around, keeping the gun aimed, but studies his face for the first time. She wishes that he looked like a liar but he doesn't. The gun in his face frightens him and she feels for him. Lowering the weapon but keeping him in place, she asks, "You know him? Prove it."

"Why not just ask him?" He bites back. Henry is at the far end of the alley but she won't give away his hiding spot until she's sure. She lifts the gun again, but he's blubbering away noticing the incoming threat before it even presents in front of his face. "Henry. His name is Henry. His mum is Emma, pretty blonde she was."

She lets him go, releases her grip and puts the weapon down. It's not enough to bring Henry out but enough to peak her interest.

"Why aren't you with him anymore?"

"We were separated before. Gold's men ransacked our camp looking for him."

"Why?" She asks. If he knows about the immunity, they'll have made progress, so she waits for him to bring it up. But he doesn't.

Instead, he fights with his own thoughts and begins to shake his head sadly, biting his bottom lip before puffing out a strained breath. "You'll have to put a bullet in my brain 'cause I can't tell you why... I  _won't_ ," he sighs worriedly, closing his eyes tightly and silently praying for mercy.

He kept Henry's secret.

Suddenly that's enough for her, so she steps back and lets him slump and relieve a sigh. She tells him to stay where he is and she jogs over to the dumpster, Henry is still sat cross legged on a folded cardboard box.

"Are we safe?" He asks, looking up.

"Yeah," she offers him a hand out of the dumpster, steadying him when he leaps down to the ground. Henry looks towards the end of the alley and smiles widely, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Will?" He runs towards the man she had pummelled to the ground and watches a sweet reunion between them. Will's face is flushed with relief, holding Henry close and squeezing him so tightly just to make sure he's real. She stands back and lets them chat quietly and leans against the wall, watching them converse excitedly. When Henry starts giggling, looking back, she knows they are talking about her. "I'll introduce you," Henry tells him, walking back to her.

"I think we had quite enough of an introduction," he quips, but holds out his hand anyway. "Will Scarlet."

"This is R," Henry fills him in.

"Like the sound a pirate makes?" Will asks, Henry laughs and she rolls her eyes.

"Like the  _letter_ ," she groans back and perches her hands on her hips, muttering, "you moron," under her breath.

Will smirks and says to Henry in a stage whisper, "Oh, I think she likes me."

Will brings Henry into another hug, sighing in another wave of relief. "Have you been alone all this time?" He asks but quickly adds, "Other than being with this ray of sunshine, I mean," while darting his eyes to Regina.

There's something familiar about him, most likely the similarity with Robin. They have similar humour and even in this short time, she has reached the tipping point where Will's tone and attitude turns from annoying to something she can't help but chuckle at.

Her lips up turn into a shy smirk, but something catches her attention. The smallest of sounds. Easily nothing, but she stares up the alleyway, back on the main road. They notice Regina's shift in focus and turn to look back as well and for ten eerie seconds, everyone holds their breath.

"Did you hear something?" Henry asks quietly, edging back to her and Will following.

It very well could have been her ears playing tricks on her, "I thought I did."

Will suggests that they creep to the street and have a better look and it's a decent enough idea. Being trapped in a short space with only one exit might not be their wisest decision. So, they gather themselves and create a line. Will in front, Henry in the middle and Regina in back.

Will peers his head around the wall and draws back quickly, " _Shit."_  he whispers through gritted teeth. Regina grips onto Henry's shoulder and looks at Will for more explanation. "I saw at least ten. They're moving this way."

The Wave.

Regina looks around for a second, tries to form a plan, but nothing. She doesn't know the city, running in groups has never been easy for her. Internally, she's screaming, worried that something bad will come of this, but she swallows it for Henry.

"What do we do, Will?" She asks, entrusting him quickly, hoping that he is as interested in Henry's well-being as he's let on. Henry switches his attention to Will and they wait for him to make a suggestion.

"We run," he sighs. Henry protests, saying there must be something else, but Will's right. Regina takes a look around at their surroundings one last time, and they  _could_  climb in the dumpster again, but any indication that they are in there and they are toast. Running is all they can do, really.

Regina steadies Robin's bow around her body, freeing up her hands and she pulls down tightly on Henry's backpack straps, tightening it close onto his back.

"I don't want to," Henry argues, ripping his hand away when Regina grips onto it. "They might see us."

"If we stay here, they definitely will." She grips onto his hand again and doesn't let him let go this time. "Don't let go. I won't let anything happen to you."

Will peeks again and groans. "It's a swarm."

"How many?" Regina asks.

"Too many," he takes Henry's other hand. "We need to go now."

Will starts to pull them out into the street and they book it. They are noticed several times, drawing attention to themselves and they're being followed, hunted. Regina's thighs are burning, her lungs harshly letting her breathe.

Suddenly they're surrounded. Will is dragging them in so many different directions, she hasn't a clue if he knows where they are going or if he's just playing it based on how safe a street looks.

They round a final corner, only for Regina to collide harshly with Henry's back just as he did Will's. Will stopped dead in his tracks. The street is plagued with the undead, they can't go this way. They're at a crossroads, Regina looks back the way they came and they are still being chased from there, and all the three other options aren't much safer.

"We're trapped," Henry clenches through his teeth. All three of them glue together back to back and circle around looking for something.

"R?" Will asks, urging and hoping that she is working her mind to figure a way out of this.

"I'm thinking," she points out, darting her eyes in every direction, looking for that one thing that could save them.

"I hate to be pushy, love, but-"

"There!" Regina points to the side of one of the buildings to the fire escape. "We go up." Regina starts to run back up the street they just fled down. With the danger making its way towards them, they have very little time. She jumps high and tries to pull the ladder down but it doesn't move, it's rusty and stuck.

"Lift him," Regina says, shoving Henry a little bit forward. "Henry up first, then you," she tells Will, "Then pull me up."

"What, no!" Henry protests.

"Henry, we've no time." Regina hoists him high, Will helping to take some of his weight. He pulls himself up and stands on the straight landing. He takes a short second to kick at the ladder and loosen it, but it's no use. "Grab him," Regina shouts up and helps Will up as high as she can, Henry pulling on this jacket to give him that final tug.

Initially she thought it would be better this way, Will going first, he will be able to pull her up much more easily than she could have pulled him, but now that she is being targeted from almost every direction without even having had her feet leave the ground, she regrets not saving herself first, as selfish as it sounds.

"Come on," Will lays on his front across the landing and reaches down for Regina and she leaps for his hand, relieved when she catches it the first time and he begins to pull her up.

It's easy at first, she is ascending quickly, that's until something pulls her down using her like it's a game of tug of war. The added weight, plus her jerking as she kicks away the monster, makes Will lose his grip.

"I can't," he grits through his teeth. So, Henry lays over the top of Will's back and reaches down too, clasps onto her wrist, yanking her up while she kicks everything away, avoiding teeth and scratches. But it's no use, more arms latch onto her, three gnawing faces trying to leave a mark.

They can't pull her up.

"Let me go," she yells up, trying to twist her hand away.

"Not a chance, mate," Will protests and strains to pull, but with the angle he's pulling from, the zombies below, it's a terrible combination.

"Let me go," she yells again. "Keep him safe." And in that instant, she kicks away a dead face and opens up a gap for herself, a small window of time. "Let go, now!"

He let's go, despite Henry's pained protesting and she slips from Will's grip, dropping back to the ground. She trips over to her knees but crawls quickly away after hearing Henry shout  _watch out_ from above.

She scrambles up and starts running again, wishing that she could turn back and spare a look to them both but she can't or she'll die. Henry is shouting to her from the fire escape, shouting for her, calling out to her with that fake name. She should have told them. Right now her survival is up in the air and nobody knows her real name, nobody knows her full story.

"Get back to Robin!" She shouts over her shoulder and she runs until she can't anymore, until she isn't being chased or followed, dodges dangers through unknown streets until she finds somewhere safe.

And once again, she is alone in the darkening sky. She's been here too many times. Low on supplies, thinking about the new family she has reluctantly made and realising, yet again, that the only thing she is good at is losing people she cares about.


	9. Chapter 9

It's been three days. Three long, dragging days since they didn't come back and the knot in Robin's stomach is only growing and tightening. Sure, when Roland started to show signs of getting better without the medicine she had journeyed for, he relaxed, but not by much. He's not even sure if Henry even went with her. He could be dead in a ditch somewhere or taken by Gold's men and suffering a fate worse than death.

The sun is setting for the third time without them, he's watching the light fade when David steps out from the kitchen, "Roland's sleeping. I think he'll be fine. That's quite the fighter you have there."

"He gets that from his mother," Robin replies softly. He needs some of Roland's strength right now, or at the very least his will to hold out because Robin wants to storm out on a rescue mission without so much as a second thought. "We should have left earlier today to find them."

"If we had, Roland wouldn't have had a hope in hell," David argues, just like he had earlier today. "They are  _fine_. Henry wanted to help, he went with her."

"We don't know that for sure."

"We have to trust our gut. And she won't let anything happen to him." David has been trying to keep him calm since the moment they realised Henry was gone. Robin became angry very quickly. "Besides, we'd know if she were dead. Even as a zombie, she'd still make sure Henry got back to us."

Robin laughs, "You're probably right. Is it bad that all I can think about is that I don't want her to leave again without knowing her name?"

"That's gnawing at you, huh?"

"I wish she would trust me enough to tell me," he sighs.

"She does. Trust you, I mean. She wouldn't have traipsed around for miles only to come straight back to you if she didn't."

"Then why are we still calling her R?"

"You are so blind," David rolls his eyes.

Robin scoffs at the accusation, "What?"

David shakes his head and laughs a single laugh through his nose. "She said her name is the only thing that she has, and that may have been the case in the beginning. But now she keeps her name to herself to protect her heart," David says, Robin still so oblivious to where he is going with it. "The only reason to protect your heart is if you're worried about letting someone close enough to break it."

"We'd never hurt her.  _I'd_  never hurt her," Robin says quietly.

"And I really believe she knows that, but she seems like the kind of person who needs a little reassurance," Robin nods his head, still frowning. "Look, I think Roland will be able to travel tomorrow. We can head into the city and we'll find them." David slaps Robin's shoulder supportively, "We'll leave a note for if they come back telling them to stay put. If we can't find them, we'll come back and hope that they managed their way."

"I thought I was the mastermind?" Robin smirks, appreciative of all of David's effort and comfort. David only laughs in response, then the conversation quietens. "I really hope they're okay," Robin says quietly, a small wish.

"They are," David assures confidently, filled with hope. "Henry is smart and you know our little wild heart can keep herself out of trouble."

* * *

She wakes up groggy. The base of her skull is pounding and throbbing, the pain growing more and more with every second that passes. She wants to look around, but she is engulfed in darkness. There's a piece of fabric tightly fastened around her eyes, so tight that she can't even open them. Attempting to reach up and untie the knot, her wrists ache when they struggle against the cold metal of her restraints, her ankles not faring any better; she's stuck.

She battles with her restrictions until the skin on her wrists rubs raw, her ankles also rubbed viciously by the yarn from what she imagines is rope. She groans loudly while slumping her entire body in defeat, no better off than she was before she woke. Things are foggy, she doesn't remember much. One minute she's avoiding danger from every inch of that undead ridden city and the next thing she knows she is tied to this fucking chair.

…..

_That day hadn't been as bad as the one before. The first night alone all but tore her insides to shreds as she worried about Henry, panicked that trusting him with Will was the wrong decision - not that she had time to make a well constructed choice. And then she thought of Robin and her heart ached for him as she imaged the pain he would be feeling. David would have been using that annoyingly soothing voice to try and calm him down, but it wouldn't do any good. And Roland, she spared the longest thought for him, praying that he is recovering._

_She was still reeling. She'd spent all day being turned around as she tried to navigate her way back to the south of town, but she was so lost. She hunted for Henry, tried to make her way back to Robin, but anywhere she went she hit a wall; danger lurked around every corner and sometimes she would literally hit a wall, a closed off street, a dead end._

_She climbed numerous flights of stairs up an office building. She pushed her way through blocked doors and failed desperate attempts at survival; dozens of chairs were pressed up against doorways, filing cabinets were tipped over and broken open leaving useless paperwork scattered all over the floor._

_She banked on there being very few of the dead up this high, plus there was the advantage of a good view of the city in the morning that would hopefully help her figure out how to reach the outskirts. Not to mention, it was the perfect place to sleep, she was exhausted._

_She picked the eighth floor to stick on. Maybe she liked the number or maybe it was the partially stocked vending machine that caught her eye. She stared through the glass with the most wanton of stares then she looked the machine up and down to determine the best way to bust it open. She settled for smacking the glass until it broke away, sparing a second or two to make sure that she didn't attract too much attention and listened intently for any movement._

_When she concluded she was in the clear she reached down to pick up the candy from among the broken glass but then something caught her eye, the smallest flicker of movement off to her right. Her eyes glued to that end of the hallway as she stuffed the candy packets into the side pouch of her bag. She crept forward, her shoes crunching the broken glass so she froze in place and gritted her teeth quietly._

_She took a small moment to think her options through but when they same crunching of glass sounded from behind her, she turned quickly on impulse only to be met with a strong smack to her face and a sheet of darkness before she was out cold._

…..

When she hears a door squeak open, her body stiffens immediately, feeling a sense of fear and fright she would give anything to push away. "Hello?" She asks quietly, praying for an answer and silence all at once.

"Who are you?" It's a female voice; sweet but focussed. "You've got three seconds or-"

"You'll what? Tie me to a chair? Blindfold me?" Regina sasses, a deflection of her panic. "Who the hell are  _you_?" The blindfold around her head is untied quickly, pulled from her face, tearing strands of hair from her head with it without an ounce of care spared. Her eyes adjust to the bright light in her face until they focus in on her captor. Fair skin, desperate eyes, dark hair hanging long on either side of her captor's face.

The woman is clutching Robin's bow in her hand, and she's gripping it tightly. Her breath shudders when she asks, " _Where_  did you get this?"

"What's it to you?"

Regina notices as the desperation washes over the stranger's face. She thinks she might be able to swing the discussion her way but then the door in the back of the room opens again and much older woman steps inside, crossbow in hand and more than ready to be fired in an instant, "Everything okay in here, Snow?"

"Yes, Granny," Snow replies and turns away from Regina for a second, "Leave us."

Granny leaves after agreeing begrudgingly and Snow directs her attention back to Regina. She wishes she could hold back the snarky smirk, but she can't. "Snow?" Regina asks, the smirk nowhere close to subsiding.

"It's a nickname," she grits back angrily. It obviously isn't the first time someone has questioned her about it. "Now, tell me your name or I might have to get Granny to deal with you after all."

It's not much of a threat, though the thought of the angry face with the crossbow does make Regina lull her head back and mutter the first name that comes into her mind, "Wilma."

" _Wilma_?" Snow scoffs.

"It's a nickname," she mimics cheekily. Her face aches terribly, especially when she yawns all of a sudden, stretching muscles that don't want to budge at all. She recalls the swift swipe to her face, "Is this your doing?"

Snow frowns slightly at her discomfort and shakes her head. Behind her, there's a table laid with a number of supplies. There isn't any rhyme or reason to the particular objects, some medical supplies, tools, what looks like a toaster and a bottle of water; Regina's bottle, the one with the scribbled question mark. "You went through my things?" Regina asks when Snow comes back with a clean swatch of material and rubbing alcohol.

"We have to make sure you aren't dangerous," Snow explains, pressing the cold fabric to the open wound on Regina's face, and when she winces Snow apologises.

The fearful knot in Regina's stomach unties itself but she remains cautious. It only now dawns on her that she could be in the keep of a group working for Gold, so she treads lightly, asking, "Do I meet your standards?"

"I don't know yet," Snow says, "You've yet to tell me anything about yourself."

Regina groans heavily, "Look, I don't know you. You don't know me. I have no desire to hurt you or anyone you're with. I'm just trying to find my friends." Regina hopes that she can weasel into the tiny kernel sympathy that Snow holds for her. "Just… let me go."

"I can't…"

"Why not?"

"This" Snow reaches back for the bow and brings it between them. "I need to know where you go this."

"I found it," she lies. "A state or two back, it was left in a camp. I thought it might come in handy." Snow curses quietly, slumping her shoulders, so Regina asks, "Why is this so important to you?"

"It belongs to an old friend of mine," Snow confesses, rolling over a chair and slouching over, defeated in front of Regina. Either Snow and Robin really do know each other or this girl is an excellent liar, not a crazy thought given Gold's tactics, though Regina feels deep down that Snow is genuinely distressed.

"You were close?" Regina asks.

"Yeah," she frowns, gripping onto the middle of the bow that is undeniably Robin's. "He saved my life before." Regina almost rolls her eyes playfully. She knows Robin's ego would inflate so easily. "My husband and I started travelling with him and his son but we got separated."

"Oh," Regina whispers, continuing with her lie and trying to move it along. "Maybe he left in a hurry and forgot to pick it up?"

"He wouldn't let another soul touch this weapon unless he trusted them wholeheartedly," Snow shakes her head, "He would sooner give his life than leave this behind. It's a part of him."

This warms Regina's heart. She knew that they trusted each other, but if Snow is speaking the truth then Regina has completely underestimated just how much trust he shares with her. "I'm sure Robin is  _fine_. You make it sound like he can take good care of himself."

Snow's face perks up, studies her intently just as Regina realises her mistake. "How do you know his name?" Snow asks, staring deep into Regina's eyes.

"Uh," she panics, "You said his name before."

"No, I didn't," she retorts quickly, "I know better than to give away the names of my friends. You knew Robin, didn't you? Did you hurt him? How did you get his bow?"

She sighs, knowing already that Snow will never believe her. "He gave it to me when I came into the city," she says, ignoring Snow's loud scoff. "I know you said he would never give it to anyone, but he gave it to me, alright? He entrusted me on a haul for medicine, one which I failed. I should have been back  _days_  ago."

"Robin's sick?" Snow asks.

"No, Robin's fine," Regina groans. "It's Roland who's sick."

Snow relaxes at the mentioning of Roland's name. Robin has always come across as a good judge of character, he wouldn't reveal anything about himself to just anyone, especially his son, and her surprisingly sweet captor knows that.

"Is he okay?"

"I honestly don't know," Regina sighs heavily, aching at the thought. "He was slightly better when we left but…"

"We?"

"Just me, I came alone," Regina quickly adjusts herself, "I came into the city and got ambushed, then I got lost and... well, you know the rest." Snow sits back down. "I don't work for Gold," Regina assures, "And I get the feeling that you don't either."

"Never," she whispers, enough anger there to convince Regina.

"Please untie me and I promise we'll talk," she barters, "But as long as I'm tied in this chair, I can't trust you."

Out of nowhere, ignoring Regina's request completely, Snow pulls a small blade from a hidden pocket in her clothes and wedges it beneath Regina's neck. There isn't enough pressure to break the skin but it has Regina rattled and worrying. Maybe she was wrong and this is Gold's compound, maybe she dismissed the possibility that Snow works for him all too quickly this time.

"Is Henry with you?" Snow asks fiercely, pressing slightly harder into Regina's neck while Regina attempts to free her wrists again. "Is he with you?" Snow yells this time.

"No," Regina screams back, "I don't know any Henry!"

* * *

"Has it cleared up?" Henry asks from the floor. Will is prying away a wooden barrier from the window and looking out onto the streets. They are still brimming with zombies, far too many to risk trying to move again.

"Afraid not, lad," Will crashes down next to Henry on the floor and reaches forward for the little tins of snacks that were locked away in the desk in whatever store he led Henry to.

"We're never getting out of here," Henry whines, waving away the offered tin of fruit. His face loses colour when he holds in a deep breath, then exhales, "I'm so dead."

"Your immune, mate," Will laughs with a mouthful of peach, "You're fine."

Henry shakes his head, not in complete agreement, "Sure, the zombies are harmless, but Robin is going to murder me."

"Robin? Nah, I'll protect ya." Will nudges his shoulder, Henry smiling shyly after the gesture. "So tell me more about your lady friend. Tough cookie, she is."

Henry chuckles, "Yeah. She's awesome. Still don't know her name yet, but I think we're growing on her."

"She's a secretive little thing, then?"

Shaking his head, he explains, "She's just careful about who she opens up to. Don't take this the wrong way, but she's out of your league." Will scoffs, feigning insult, but it's all in good fun. "I think she's been alone for a long time, she didn't have Robin and David to keep her company like I did."

"David's alive, too?"

Will beams a bright smile when Henry nods and says, "It's been us and Roland for a long time."

"Smashin'," Will offers Henry another peach and he takes one, "Still no sign of your mum?"

Henry munches quietly on the fruit and shrugs his shoulders, "Robin knows where she is, I can tell. But I know we can't risk fighting for her. She'd want me to get to Boston."

"That she would. And we will." Henry's face drops ever so slightly, the smallest of frowns creeping across his face. " _Then_  we'll go get her. Deal?"

"Deal."

* * *

Snow retreats immediately, leaving Regina breathing heavily in the chair as Snow bangs on the door, whispering something to Granny when it's opened. Preparing for the worst, Regina squeezes her eyes closed and clenches her entire body, waiting for pain to rip through her, but instead, she hears the clinking of metal as the handcuffs around her wrists are unlocked and pried away. Snow bends to slice through the rope around her ankles.

Granny offers Regina a hand, "Come on, girl." Regina takes it quickly, something about the older woman frightening her into the action. "Congratulations, you passed."

"Passed?" She asks, struggling to stand upright, her body fighting against gravity, wanting to slump to the ground in exhaustion. "This was all just a test?"

Snow grips onto her elbow, helping her, "You lied when you said you don't know Henry." Granny wanders off out of the room again as Regina's head flips to Snow, confused. Then Snow explains, "I could have killed you and you still said you didn't know him. Now I know I can trust you."

Regina begins to stretch her limbs, allowing Snow to help keep her upright, ridding of the aches and pains that have gathered for the plethora of reasons, but it's her face that is throbbing. She reaches to run her hand over her cheek and feels the broken skin and raised lump. She hisses, it's a bad one. Snow gives her the same rag and disinfectant that was used before and a small pocket mirror that was in Snow's pocket. It's a deep purple bruise, black in some places. It's low enough on her cheek that her eyesight isn't impaired, but she got lucky with this one.

"Leroy can be a bit over-zealous at times," Snow tells her apologetically. "He saw Robin's bow and knew he had to bring you to us."

"Do me a favour and make sure I don't meet Leroy for at least a few more hours, " she snaps the mirror closed and tosses it back to Snow who is chuckling the smallest of chuckles at Regina's sass. "How do you know Henry?"

"We were taking him to Boston," Snow says easily and freely. Regina is about scald her for the recklessness to just trust a person so easily with such information, but before she gets the chance, Snow comes back with, "Oh, come on, if Robin gave you his bow, he told you about Henry's condition and where they were going."

Regina doesn't appreciate the suggesting smirk on Snow's face and huffs out an unamused breath, "How many of you are there?" She takes the bow back from Snow's hand and reaches for her bag tucked away in the corner.

"Quite a few, where…" she stutters when Regina tries to navigate the strange lock on the door, "Where are you going?"

Regina realises she hasn't a clue where she is or what she is doing, all she knows for certain is that Henry is out there alone and Robin is going to be worried sick, no doubt he's already made his way into the city himself. "I need your help," Regina turns back to Snow.

"Of course," she agrees, nods in a way to tell her to continue.

"Do you know Will Scarlett?" Regina asks and Snow's eyes brighten.

"Yes," says amidst a sigh. "He's who Leroy was looking for when he came across you."

"Well, Henry's with him," Regina tells her and Snow sighs contentedly, similarly both of them want nothing but safety for him and being lost with Will is much better than him being lost alone. "We were together when that wave of zombies swept through downtown. I couldn't get onto the rooftop fast enough so I had to run. I got lost in the streets of the city. I had to leave him behind."

"You had to survive," Snow corrects, then tells her confidently, "I know where they'll be. If it's really as swarmed as you're saying it is and Will is with Henry, he'll stay put but he'll go somewhere safe. We've moved around the city a lot before we found this place. All of our other hideouts were designated as rescue points if something like this ever happened." Regina sighs in relief. "We'll check which ones Leroy didn't get to and we'll go and get them."

Snow opens the door for Regina and she steps outside, there are racks or clothes, an abandoned register on the back wall. "Are we in a store?"

"Even better," Snow smirks. Together they walk passed Granny and a few unfamiliar faces into the wide walkways of a shopping mall. They're on the second floor, most of the store shutters have been raised, familiar stores that Regina never thought she'd ever see again. As always, she'll give credit where it's due, seeking refuge in a mall is impressive.

"This is genius," she laughs. It's faultless, flexible and she's almost fawning over the supplies they must have.

"It's perfect," Snow agrees. "We barely run low on much of anything, boredom is easily fixed. The undead are kept outside bar the odd straggler, but there are places to run if that changes.  _And_ the few times Gold's men have stalked through, we've managed to hide easily."

"Gold's men have been here?" Regina asks as they walk down the stationary escalator to the food court.

"Only a few times," Snow yells over to someone to bring across water, "They are  _really_  looking for Henry and they will go to the ends of the earth to find him."

"I know, we've had a few close calls ourselves," Regina takes the water bottle from the hands of the shorter man who approaches them and judging by the guilt strewn across his face, she easily concludes with a smirk, "You must be Leroy."

"Listen, sister-"

"Don't worry about it," Regina forgives him off the bat. She probably would have done the same thing. "How did you get behind me so fast anyway?"

"We never go on these missions alone," he turns back and points at the small gathering of men. "There were a few of us." Regina waves shyly across the food court and snorts a laugh when the men all turn away shyly. "You got a name?"

"Uh-"

"This is Wilma," Snow jumps in, winking Regina's way, "We are going to find Will and Henry." At the sound of both names, Henry's in particular, people around them gather in closer, whispering to each other. "Then we are going to get Robin and Roland and bring them back here."

"They're all alive?" Granny asks from behind them when she reaches the bottom step of the escalator, the question aimed at Regina.

"Yes," she promises. "Roland is a little sick but everyone is else is fine."

"We'll take some medicine with us when we go," Snow adds earning an appreciated nod.

"How'd you do to get Robin's bow?" Leroy asks. "There's no way he'd just give it to you. Are you two an item?"

"Excuse me?"

"Leroy," Snow reprimands, ushering him away, then apologising, "He's a little blunt."

"I can see that," she crosses her arms tightly, regretting how easily she forgave him before. She doesn't know why she feels the need, but she announces to the group, "Robin and I are close. He's the first person I have truly trusted in a long time. I came here for medicine to help his son, maybe that's why he gave me a weapon. I'm not much good to him dead, am I?" Voices mutter among the group, most agreeing with Regina's explanation.

"What about David?" Granny asks quietly, turning in close to Regina to keep the conversation a more private, but Snow's smile drops and she begins to shy away from the small circled group that has gathered.

"David's fine," Regina says, unsure of the fuss. Then Snow's glance snaps back and her face flushes completely, her entire body losing months of built up tension. "What?" Regina asks, confused.

"He's okay? He's  _alive_?" Snow asks with trembling lips and shuddering breaths, glistening eyes as hope fills her face.

"Oh…" Regina breathes out happily when she realises and touches her hand against her chest, "You're Mary Margaret, aren't you?" Snow nods excitedly, unable to keep the hope built up in her eyes anymore as it begins to drip down her cheeks. "He's looking for you," Regina laughs brightly, reaching over and squeezing Snow's shoulder while everyone around her celebrates the second bout of good news. "He's with Robin and Roland. We'll go get him."

"Now?" Snow sniffles into the handkerchief Granny passes her way.

"Right now," Regina nods. "Lead me to your weapons, we'll kit up, and we will go and get your husband back."

"And your man, Wilma," Leroy shouts loudly, grinning from the back of the gathering.

It catches Regina's ear and she chuckles immediately, rolling her eyes, "And my  _man_ , apparently." Snow laughs through a watery smile and is swallowed up by friends who are excited about David's safety, and Regina gives her that moment. God knows, she wishes she could experience that relief for herself. If someone were to tell her Daniel miraculously survived, she'd float like a feather.

"You come with me. As much as Robin respects that bow, it's useless out there in my opinion" Granny jokes, ushering Regina away from the crowds to the locked store filled with mountains of weapons and ammunition.

"I think Robin would strongly disagree with... _Whoa_ ," Regina's jaw drops. She's never seen an arsenal quite like this one. "You've got quite a collection."

"Only the best to get our boys home," she says proudly. "Though if you want to forget Will while you're out there…"

Regina snorts a laugh as she admires the blade carefully packed in cases, "Not a fan?"

"Robin loves him, that's enough for me," Granny shrugs, "Even if I do want to kill him myself half the time."

"You know Robin, too?"

"Most of us do, and his boy." Regina picks up a gun bigger than she's ever seen before, surprised by the weight, listening to Granny who keeps talking behind her, "And let me be honest, I don't believe that crap about you two just being friends."

"Well, when we get back, you can grill him and he'll tell you the same thing," Regina retorts, ignoring Granny's attempt to poke fun at her. "Can I take this?" She asks, picking up a large knife. Granny nods, shrugs and grins at her impressively.

"Take what you need," Granny insists as Snow enters behind them. "You ready?"

"More than ever," Snow smiles, pulling around at her waistcoat, "You?" She asks Regina.

"Let's go."


	10. Chapter 10

Regina learned very quickly that Snow was a force to be reckoned with. Her soft and innocent exterior aside, this woman could take down an entire, fully equipped army. For the most part, each of her killings has been an isolated incident; the swarms have broken up and all that's left is a few strays here and there in the streets.

For now anyway.

The first safe house was a bust. When they got there, all the supplies were ransacked, the medical kit completely empty. Leroy had to stay there for a few nights when he got himself separated from the rest of his sneaky bunch of friends. That was back when they first came into town and somehow Leroy managed to loot the place entirely in the process.

As they head back onto the streets, the hot sun beating down on their tired heads, Regina asks, "Where to next?"

"We have one more safe point in the east and another in the centre of downtown," Snow explains, but she shrugs. "I have no idea which one they'd have gone to."

Regina feels confident when she suggests  _downtown_. That's where she and Henry entered the city, they were lost amongst the skyscrapers, and she can only hope that Will would have the sense to take Henry to the closest safe house.

Snow nods in agreement and walks a step or two ahead to guide them. "This way."

She weaves through deserted side streets and trash ridden alleyways like an expert as Regina follows. Snow's urgency and dexterity is impressive and she and Regina found a rhythm very quickly; they were sticking together, taking turns to check around corners, watching each other's backs like they'd been doing this for years. The way they were working together to keep each other safe meant that their trust for one another fell into place effortlessly.

As they start edging closer to downtown, the number of zombies in the streets starts to increase dramatically. An odd kill every so often turns into multiple quick executions as the duo hit a pocket of undead.

"Are we close?" Regina asks, ripping her knife from her latest kill's skull, groaning for the millionth time at the viscous brain matter left on the blade.

Snow's in the middle of catching her breath but manages a nod. "Though it might be a good idea to go back and ask for help."

Regina's wiping her blade clean with a rag, when she proudly states, "We've made it this far on our own."

"The further into downtown we get, the more likely we are to be ambushed. Two of us can't handle that."

"Henry and Will have been alone for too long. We don't have a choice." Regina can't stop thinking about Henry and whether or not he's okay. They don't have time to turn back.

After a moment of inner deliberation, Snow reluctantly agrees. "Alright, but if we end up ambushed, I'm blaming you."

…..

"I told you that we should have gone for help," Snow manages through her teeth as they start to run.

Regina would apologise but the closer approaching undead steals her attention. They sprint together and she relies on every ounce of trust she has in Snow. "In here," she grits through her teeth, leaning over to pull at the metal barrier to a store. Luckily it's unlocked so they can slip inside easily and lower it again - it's not much, but it's something to keep the twenty or so zombies from getting in.

Breathing heavily, they take a hearty step away from the barrier as dead hands try to force their way through to grab any inch of them. More and more keep coming, surrounding the door, pressing on the flimsy metal. Regina begins to look around and it looks like they're in an antique store - it's almost untouched, filled with little trinkets that nobody felt the need to steal after the outbreak.

"Is there a way out?" Snow asks.

"Maybe, let's lo-" Regina stops speaking suddenly and her head whips to look back out to the street. She heard something, even over the undead moaning and hissing. She could swear she heard a voice, someone yelling out.

Snow notices how Regina's attention shifts and steps closer to the door, just in front of Regina. "What is it?"

"Shhh." Regina steps up close behind Snow and covers her mouth. For a second it appears for no reason but Regina doesn't let up and luckily so. Gunfire sounds, expertly shooting down the monsters just shy of the shop door. It's militaristic, perfectly executed, so they're sure it's not anyone they know. "Hide."

Regina and Snow scatter to opposite ends of the shop, bending down and staying out of view, waiting for the unknown shooter to walk by.

"Was that necessary?" Graham shouts after walking out onto the street; Regina recognises his voice instantly. "We don't exactly have unlimited ammo."

"The boy is in this city. We don't have the time to waste to be resourceful. What's in there?" Sidney calls out loudly.

"It's just a shop."

"Zombies don't try to get into a shop for nothing," the older man sasses. "Check it out. If you see anything, kill it."

Regina holds her breath, prays that Snow is doing the same, and places a hand over her chest where she can feel the speeding beat of her heart. They have to remain dead silent. Graham lifts the metal railing and steps slowly inside. Her eyes scrunch closed and she counts slowly to five, listening as Graham's shoes creak the floorboards as he makes his way in, avoiding some broken glass on the floor. He's nearing the side of the store where Snow is crouched and attempting to hide. Regina peers around the counter and catches Snow with her hand over her mouth to keep as quiet as she possibly can. When their eyes meet, Regina notices the well of tears in Snow's eyes ready to drop to the floor. She's terrified.

"Anything?" Sidney shouts into the shop and there's a beat.

Regina lifts a forefinger over her lips, never letting Snow's eyes lose her own. They're in this together no matter what and after a final moment of bated breath, Graham starts to retreat back out onto the street.

"It was probably just a rat," he tells Sidney. "Let's find the boy."

They walk away but neither Regina or Snow dare even blink for at least another minute. It's deathly silent when Regina watches Snow begin to shuffle to her feet. When Regina stands, she notices how visibly shaken Snow is. She's twisting her fingers together and breathing heavily.

Regina mouths, "You okay?" Snow nods, though not very convincingly. "How far are we from them?" Regina asks quietly, keeping her voice as hushed as she can just in case.

"It depends which way we go," Snow explains. "If it's clear, fifteen minutes or so if we hit another bump like this… who knows. If we hit another swarm like that we could die, if we come across Gold's men again..."

"Snow," Regina hushes her gently, placing her hands on her biceps. "Focus. The sooner we find Henry, the sooner we get to go to David. You know this place better than me… I need you right now. Henry and David need you right now." Regina's hands slip up and she squeezes Snow's shoulders and together they take one large breath, in and out. "You lead the way and I'll be right behind you."

* * *

"Not again," Regina grunts as she circles around, surrounded from every angle. Snow presses close to Regina and she starts letting off rounds at any of the undead who launch their way. Regina takes Robin's bow from around her torso and draws back an arrow, releasing it. They've made the unspoken agreement to try and fight their way out of this ambush.

Snow fires bullet after bullet until her gun clicks and clicks and clicks again when the magazine is finished. "This isn't going to work," she grits through her teeth, reaching into her pocket and attempting to reload as quickly as possible.

"Can we make it onto a fire escape?" Regina asks, firing off a few arrows but realising quickly that she's not as tactful as Robin with it. She puts it around her torso quickly and switches for one of the handguns she borrowed from Granny and lets off as many rounds as she can. "Snow?!"

"I'm looking," Snow replies while darting her eyes from building to building. "Wait-"

Snow catches the sight of a body on a rooftop on their left and suddenly a path is being made for them. Someone with a rifle is shooting the zombies down quickly, giving them a chance to sprint through the gap it creates.

"Is that Robin?" Snow asks loudly as she runs.

Regina throws her head up and catches the smug grin before anything else and she knows. "Oh yeah," she laughs. "Just get to the fire escape!"

Regina flashes back suddenly to when she, Will and Henry were trying to escape the street. She's helping Snow reach up to the fire escape and Robin pulls her up swiftly with Regina's help from below.

"Head up and start killing some of these bastards," he tells Snow, but wastes no time to reach down to Regina. "Your turn, milady," he strains as he lies along his front. "Kick off the wall and I'll catch you."

Nodding quickly, she takes a few steps back and sprints. She kicks her boot from the bricks on her left to give herself a boost and reaches for Robin's outstretched arm. He grabs onto her easily and holds her steady and dangling mid air for a moment as he thinks of the best way to pull her up.

"I don't mean to rush you," Regina mutters with airy breath, "but we are about to have company. Snow, over here!" Regina's staring straight ahead and there's a few zombies limping her way, some faster than others. "Pull me up now!"

Robin groans loudly as he goes against everything his muscles want him to do, ignores the painful stretch on his arm and pulls with everything he can muster. When Regina can grip onto the fire escape, she does and holds some of her own weight.

"Hold onto my neck," Robin demands quickly and he hastily links around her middle while her arms latch around his neck. He pushes backwards strenuously and prays that momentum and gravity will be their saving graces. They fall back like he had hoped they would, flat against the thin grating on the fire escape just in time, no bites or scratches, only a dull ache in her elbows where they collided with the metal and she's sure the fall has pulled all the air from Robin's lungs.

"Are you okay?" she groans as she pushes her weight off of him. His breathing is low and shallow, an attempt to slow his heart rate, but he nods to let her know he's fine. Once she's stood up straight, she offers a hand to him. "Let me help you."

He accepts the offer, utilises her efforts to pull his body to stand upright, though not without sniggering. "Isn't this usually the other way around?"

"Ha. Ha," she mocks, smiling shyly when they're face to face.

His smile disappears quickly as his fingers brush lightly over the blackening bruise on her face. She almost forgot about it, the fear of being eaten alive a powerful distraction. She shakes away his solicitous affection, smiling with tight lips, but there's little hesitance when Robin pulls her in close, enveloping her in relieved arms with a long sigh into her hair. "I'm so glad you're okay," he breathes.

"And you," she mumbles against the familiar woody scent of his shirt. "I found your friends," she tells him and they pull apart to look up at Snow and her beaming smile.

They climb the remaining steps to the rooftop and Snow launches herself at Robin. Their reunion is darling. All of the stories Robin and David told about David's wife becoming clearer and clearer and Regina can see just how close they are. Robin cups her cheeks sweetly, expresses how happy he is that she's safe. Regina has stepped away but she decides to turn her back to them to give them the privacy they deserve.

Snow begins to ask of David and Roland, but Robin assures that they are safe, that Roland still wasn't quite right but they knew something had happened to Regina and Henry. She hates making them worry, but she pushes it aside for now and stares down at the monster ridden streets, thinks of Henry and the danger that is hunting for him. Snow must have wondered too, because Regina hears Robin ask, "You've lost Henry?"

"He's with Will," Snow tells him and he looks Regina's way for further explanation. He's not angry, merely curious.

Regina sighs at the memory. "We got caught in a swarm just like that one. We got Henry high up first, then Will… but there wasn't enough time to pull me up." Regina can barely allow her eyes to leave the concrete of the rooftop floor. "I had to let go...but..." She doesn't mean to beat herself up about it, but the way her mind has focused on Henry being scared and alone or worse, she can't help the guilt and the welling of tears in her eyes that come with it. "I should have tried harder."

"You had to keep yourself safe," Robin says understandingly, much to Regina's surprise. "And you hardly left him alone. You made sure he was safe first."

"With  _Will_?" Snow jokes, winking Regina's way playfully, a rather successful attempt at lightening the mood. Regina spares a soft laugh through her nose as Snow and Robin chuckle together at Will's expense. "We need to go. Gold's men know that they're here."

Robin's face flushes with concern and he looks around the rooftop. "Which direction do we need to head?" Snow points to her left and there doesn't seem to be an easy option in terms of travelling in that direction. They need to get back on the ground.

"Can we go inside and then out?" Regina suggests, nodding to the escape door in the centre of the rooftop.

"That may be our only option," Robin sighs. "Has everyone got enough ammo?"

Regina and Snow nod and Regina starts to take the bow from around her torso, handing it back to him. "I'm not very good with it anyway," she laughs, "but thank you. I know how much it means to you."

"You're alive, I imagine that means that it served you well."

It did and it didn't, but she'd never come off as ungrateful. If anything it was a symbol of the faith he has in her. He'd never give it to her if he'd never expect her to return. "It resulted in a number of accusations from your friends…" Robin's about to ask for more detail but Snow calls them over, the escape door opens and they can make their way inside. "I'll explain later," Regina laughs as they follow Snow inside the building.

* * *

"We're almost there," Snow promises. They're all out of breath, their lungs burning with each inhale and exhale. Running wasn't ideal but the longer they spent killing, the more time Graham and Sidney had to find Henry and they couldn't let that happen.

"Oh no…" Snow mutters worriedly.

"What?" Regina points ahead at an office building. The windows are smashed, the front door has been broken open. Seems like they were too late anyway.

"Please tell me that's not where Will and Henry are supposed to be…" Robin begs, looking back from Snow to the destroyed entrance. Much to their dismay, Snow nods sadly.

Regina runs inside with Henry's name whispering off her lips. She skips over the broken glass without a second thought and her gun drawn, ready to fire at anything. "Henry!" She calls out loudly and waits. There's no response, but she knows Henry has been here. She catches the striped red and grey scarf out of the corner of her eye. It's soft between her fingers, almost warm… it hasn't been long since it was wrapped around his neck.

From behind the reception desk, she hears a soft groan and immediately stands straight with her gun outstretched again. "Who's there?" she calls, but there's nothing, not at first. Then a small, pained groan sounds again. She circles around the desk slowly, alert and prepared. She sees the shoes first, then jeans… it's Will.

"Oh my god…"

She shoves her gun away and drops to her knees by Will's side. His face is beaten to a pulp, he's almost unrecognisable. She notices how his own knuckles are bloodied, poor thing must have fought back with everything he had. She's horrified and can't keep the frown from plastering on her face. She calls out for Robin and Snow several times but they must not hear her.

"Will," she coos softly and takes his hand. "If you can hear me, squeeze my hand." He squeezes, the lightest of squeezes, but she feels it. He tries to speak but his lip is so badly split and his cheek is swollen. "Don't. Take it easy. Can you sit up?"

He nods faintly and starts to shuffle his upper body from the floor. Regina helps him through the pain and the grunts until his back is flat against the wood of the desk and he barely manages a  _thank you_  but it's something. Regina's concentrating on giving Will water when she hears a commotion from outside, Snow yells for someone to  _stop,_  to  _leave Robin alone_.

"Stay quiet," Regina hushes to Will before she stands and jogs outside. Snow has been smacked away whilst Robin is rolling around on the ground with someone in a noxious fist fight. There's little indication as to who has the upper hand, but then Graham's face comes into view.

"Stop!" Regina yells, gripping onto Graham's shoulders and pulling him back violently, but he twists and shoves her away, making her trip over her feet backwards and colliding with the hard concrete and he turns back to slam his fist into Robin's face once, twice, three times until there is blood spattering from Robin's mouth.

Snow is helping Regina up off the ground when Robin manages to flip Graham over and return the favour. Punches are being thrown, they are twisting and tumbling. When Graham wraps his fingers around Robin's neck and squeezes, Robin begins to struggle more and more until his body starts to become limp. Regina can't stand back and watch, she pulls the gun from her trousers, cocking it loudly and pointing it at Graham.

"Let him go," she demands, but he doesn't listen so she presses the gun against his tender temple and this time resorts to begging with a hushed voice. "Graham, please stop." When she says his name, his entire body stiffens and he releases Robin's throat.

Robin starts coughing violently at the sudden ability to breathe and he scrambles away. Graham turns his scowl towards Regina. His look is terrifying, primal, but it softens… his gnarly terrorising stare softens into a smirk.

"You know him?" Robin asks. His hands are clutching around his own neck, creating his own protective barrier from any future harm.

"And the truth comes out," Graham sniggers.

Regina pushes the gun more forcefully against his, telling him to, "Shut up." Robin is looking at her like she's just betrayed him in the most horrible of ways. Not that she can blame him, but she has to let him know. "It's not what you're thinking, I swear."

"Isn't it?" Graham taunts with a cackle.

Regina growls angrily, forcing his back to the ground after swiftly kicking his chest, standing straight above him with the gun pointed straight down. Robin and Snow are staring, dazed and confused. "Will is badly hurt. He's inside. One of you, help him."

Robin instinctively wants to help his friend, but curiosity has glued him to the ground. Luckily Snow offers to go inside, glaring indescribably at Regina on her way past. She wishes she could leave Graham to run off and console Robin, reassure him until she loses her voice that she isn't in cahoots with Gold, but Henry is missing and time is precious.

"Where is Henry?" She demands an answer from Graham. He rolls his eyes and snorts a laugh. So getting an answer from him isn't going to be easy. "Graham, tell me where he is."

"He's with Sidney, of course," he mutters, smiling and jokes, "safe and sound."

Snow manages to help Will stagger outside; he's mobile but struggling. "Christ, Will!" Robin groans at the sight of him, jogging the short space to help him the rest of the way.

"Henry isn't who you should be worried about anyway," Graham sing songs. A creepy melody that makes Regina stomach drop to her knees.

Robin hears it too. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He comes to stand next to Regina, leaving Will dangling off of Snow's side.

"Sidney wants to leave you all a message. He wants to remind you where you stand. What better way to do that than killing the people you love most…" Graham's eyes are trained on Regina the entire time.

"What are you talking about?" Robin asks, straining his eyes closed. He's sick of the mind games.

"Robin…" Regina reaches back and rests a hand on his upper arms as she realises, "He's going after Roland."

"Ding ding ding," he mocks. "So you better run off and save your littlest adventurer."

Regina grits her teeth furiously, anger popping in her eyes. She prepares to kick him violently, to force his sarcasm away, to wipe that damn smirk off his face, but a hand grips onto her shoulder, snatching her back.

"Go," Snow tells her. She tells both she  _and_ Robin. "I've got Will and we won't let your friend out of our sights."

"He's  _not_  my friend," she spits. "If he tries anything, kill him." She turns to Robin who's readying himself for the run of a lifetime. So much has been brought to light, she feels that she needs to explain, "I…"

"There's no time," he hushes her. "Tell me later."

Regina nods and sighs a breath of relief as he tips his neck backward, telling her to follow and he starts running. She follows him easily, ignoring the horrific burning in her thighs, the scraping in her lungs. Air fights its way in and out of her body all the way to the outskirts of town and neither Regina or Robin let up in speed regardless of how much pain they are in. Fight or flight is serving them well.

It's deathly quiet when they reach the house and their fears come to life when they start to notice the small signs of attack on the house; bullet holes in the front door, a smear of blood on the bannister of the porch. The sight renders them frozen, staring. Regina squeezes Robin's shoulder, then he calls out for them, "Roland?! David?!" And he sprints inside, searching every room.

Regina can hardly breathe. She's eagerly trying to catch her breath and begs the terror to stop constricting her lungs. Out of the corner of her eye, she catches movement and draws her weapon for what feels like the millionth time that day.

She hears a pained groan and suddenly David falls into view. "Robin!" She shouts, sprinting over to David's side. "Are you hurt?"

David doesn't respond, he has a small cut and bump on the back of his head and he's groggier than anything she's ever seen. When Robin comes outside, he joins Regina next to David, inspecting the jagged wound and asking over and over  _are you okay?_  and  _where's Roland?_  but David can hardly string a sentence together; he's mumbling like he's been drunk for hours and clutches at the back of his neck.

Regina stands up and looks out into the fields around her. She's hoping to catch a mop of brown hair among the green. As her heart beats faster and her worry heightens, she crouches down through achy knees and takes a deep breath. She tries to gather her thoughts, tries to think of what to do next while Robin tries to pry information out of David's cloudy mind.

David is trying to explain what happened. He speaks of a person she knows is Sidney, says Henry was with him. "How long ago?" Robin asks desperately.

"I…," David coughs violently and groans, "I don't know. I'm sorry… I... "

That's when Regina hears a creak, the tiniest of creaks but it catches her ear. She stands up again, listening intently.

"What about Roland?" Robin asks. "Did he take Roland?"

For a moment she thinks she imagined it all, but then there's a scuffle, something brushing against wood. "Guys, be quiet," she hushes Robin and David and they zip their lips closed tightly. They are watching as she walks closer to the house with her ears perked.

There's another scuffle… a thump… then the softest of groans and a gasp to keep it quiet. As Regina reaches the porch, she angles her head sideways to listen again and as soon as she hears the distressed whimpering, she can't help but smile while she runs to the edge of the house.

On their second day here, Roland wanted to go outside and they found a little entrance that led underneath the house, deep in the dirt and home to the water pipes, he must've remembered how she called it a perfect hiding place.

She drops to her knees and looks inside the small opening and she almost strangles herself on a relieved breath. Roland notices her in a second and begins to crawl like a menace into her open arms and launches at her torso, letting his pent up tears flow without a care.

"I've got you," she whispers into his hair, standing up quickly as he wraps his arms around her.

Robin is by him in seconds, burying his face into the back of Roland's hair and telling him over and over how glad he is that he's safe, how proud he is of Roland for hiding so well. Roland twists and latches around Robin's neck, freeing up Regina to sit on the porch steps to finally breathe for a moment.

David has managed to stand up and is doing well at keeping himself upright and is just as much relieved that Roland is safe.

Regina hears a voice far off in the distance, a cry for help and her short moment of rest dissolves into nothing. It's Henry. It's Henry shouting for help and they all hear it. Robin puts Roland down softly onto the ground and all the adults group together around him.

"You know the man who has Henry, don't you?" Robin asks Regina. His tone is slightly bitter and a tad accusatory, but there isn't the time to let it damage her spirit.

She nods. "Unfortunately."

"What are the chances of him letting Henry go?"

"Zero," Regina deadpans. "I'll go."

"No," Robin argues, frustrated and confused.

"Look," Regina sighs heavily and reaches for both of his hands, gripping them tightly and trying her darnedest not to become a blubbering mess asking him to trust her again. "I haven't been entirely honest with you. But these men are from a part of my life that I worked very hard to forget. I don't have time to explain it all to you, but please let me prove to you that I care about Henry as much as you do."

Robin's staring deep into her eyes, searching for anything to merit his doubt, but she knows it's not there. She's reassured when he gives her hands a small squeeze and nods his head. "If you're not back in fifteen minutes, we're coming after you."

"I promise I won't hurt him," Regina sighs shamefully and she drops his hands.

"That's not why we're coming after you. I need you both safe."

* * *

Regina runs in the direction of Henry's cries with Robin's belief in her being the spring in her step When she reaches the edge of a line of trees that indicate the entrance to the forest, she finds two sets of footprints in the mud of the forest floor and follows them quickly.

Henry's doing everything he can to slow them down, she can tell by the way his footprints are dragging - he's not making it easy for Sidney and she couldn't be prouder. As she moves faster, she just feels that she's getting closer and when she hears Henry's voice again, it's like a weight is lifted.

"Will you just  _move_?" Sidney demands furiously, dragging Henry by the collar of his coat.

"Make me," Henry grits through his teeth, flinging all of his weight against Sidney's pull.

Regina takes this opportunity to draw her weapon and carefully make her presence know, "Let him go, Sidney." Both are startled, Henry's face plastered with an immediate smile and an eased slump in his shoulders. Sidney pulls Henry close to his chest and places his gun just shy of Henry's eyebrow. Regina's breath hitches in her throat, "I don't want to have to hurt you."

"That's not how this works, Miss Mills," Sidney mutters nastily, "And you know it. One of us won't make it out of this." Henry closes his eyes tightly as Sidney tightens his hold around Henry's neck. "And I'd hardly say you're in much of a position to take a shot…"

Sidney's right. Henry's is far too close to the line of fire for her to take a shot so risky. "He's just a boy…" she attempts to play to his softer side, to try and trick him. "Are you really willing to ruin his entire life all for the sake of a vaccine?"

Sidney scoffs and throws his head back with an amused laugh, "You think this is about a vaccine? You really know nothing."

Her eyes scrunch as every assumption she's made about Gold's motives are effectively crushed. Sidney is too concrete, his heart is too infected with blackness to change sides in the amount of time she has to play him.

Only one of them is leaving this space alive and Henry's fate relies completely on who that is.


	11. Chapter 11

Regina has vowed since the beginning to never kill someone who isn't infected. She'd never take a life. But as she stands in front of Sidney, as he presses a barrel to Henry's skull with so much force that the poor boy is gritting his teeth and narrowing his brow, suddenly she finds herself more than capable to make that rash decision.

"Let him go," she pleads desperately. She tries to keep her voice calm, stares right into Henry's terrified eyes and promises that he'll be okay.

Sidney chortles. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Regina…" Henry's eyes widen and, in a strange instance, he smiles her way, a small acknowledgement of her name. But it's short-lived when Sidney pulls harder against Henry's frame and he visibly can't breathe; his hands are pulling at Sidney's arms, trying to release himself.

"Stop!" She yells, stealing all of Sidney's attention. His eyes latch onto her desperation. Her gun is no longer pointing at him, instead she is holding both of her hands to her sides, the gun dangling loosely in her fingers.

"Take me," Regina offers herself up, even tosses the gun far off to the right to sweeten the deal. "My mother will be amazed that you managed to wrangle me in, right?" He contemplates her offer, crunches his eyes closed. "That's what you want, isn't it? To impress Cora?" Sidney freezes, considers it strongly, so she keeps pressing, "Her praises are worth more to you than Gold's."

Sidney loosens his grip on Henry for a split second, and as if he could read her mind, Henry lurches his elbow back and harshly into Sidney's ribs. The older man groans and stumbles back with an  _oomph_ , clutching his pained rib cage.

Henry sprints forward and latches onto Regina's middle and she clutches around him, eyes on Sidney the entire time. When he starts to regain his composure, she kisses Henry's head breathlessly, and tells him, "Run back to Robin." Henry tries to argue, but she insists, "Go!" and shoves him gently aside when she notices that Sidney is upright again and clutching his weapon.

Regina throws all caution to the wind and runs toward him - a bowling ball toward a pin - and tackles him to the ground. The gun slips from his hand after the impact, tumbling and bouncing back amongst the trees. Now it's just them, their fists, and desperate efforts to stay in control.

Sidney grips on her hair, an advantage she doesn't have, and pulls her head back painfully until she cries out and reaches back to free herself. In doing so, she gives Sidney the upper hand. He pushes hard on his heels, digs them into the ground and topples them over and plants his knees over her chest, constricting her breathing.

She gasps for air when his hands press hard on her throat; his entire focus on his efforts, squeezing while she grasps up at his face, scratching and pulling on everything she can.

She whimpers quietly when her body starts to feel numb and lazy, slowly she feels lighter and lighter and her arms fall to the side.

Henry crosses her mind, how he's safe and on his way to Robin. She tries to fight more, tries so hard to pull herself away from near death, when suddenly her body is inhaling like it might never inhale again. The forest air is harsh against her bruised throat (she knows there'll be bruises) and she coughs madly, gathering her senses when she hears the constant smack, smack, smack on her side.

Henry didn't leave. And he's beating Sidney's head with a rock. Over and over, harder each time the rock swings up and slams down. Henry's face is covered in speckles of blood, his teeth crunching together.

"Stop…" Regina struggles to say, scrambling to her feet and looping her arms around Henry's middle. She tries to pulls him away, begging, "Henry, stop!" She glances down to Sidney. A lifeless Sidney. "He's dead. He's  _dead_."

The rock drops from his bloodied hands and his body goes entirely limp in her arms, muttering  _oh God_  over and over, voice panicked, scared and cracking.

Regina drags him roughly through the dirt away from the body, dropping to her knees in front of him. "Are you okay?" He doesn't answer. Only stares at Sidney. "Henry," she snaps her fingers in front of this face until his eyes move to hers. "Are you okay?"

His mouth opens to answer but his answer doesn't come, just a disbelieving, "I killed him." Looking back over her shoulder again, he stares at the body. "I killed a  _person_."

"Look at me," she requests softly. He doesn't. "Henry," she touches his chin and brings his face to look at her dead on. "Don't look at him, look at me." His eyes are brimmed with unshed, shamed tears. "You did what you had to do. He was trying to kill me."

"I could have hit him away," he reasons.

Regina shakes her head, "He would have been back up and after  _you_  in seconds." Henry's lip trembles and he clenches his eyes closed, droplets sneaking from anywhere that they can. "You saved my life."

She wipes away the tears from his cheek through smeared blood and dirt before standing up and lifting him up with her. She tells him to turn around and not look back while she picks up her weapon from where she tossed it, jogs the small space to find Sidney's to take as her own. She considers leaving his body where it lies, untouched and unsearched, but he could be riddled with information just in his pockets.

Quickly, she ravages through the pockets and finds a map, stray bullets, some weirdly packaged protein bar, and a strange black pouch with  _Graham_  scribbled on the front; inside there's a medicine bottle and syringes. She doesn't have time to read anything into it, so she shoves it into her back pocket. Overall, there's nothing overly useful, but at least she can say she tried. Then she catches his boot, something stuffed in his sock. It's a Walkie Talkie, switched off and silent. Exactly how it'll remain until she gets Henry back to safety.

She and Henry walk silently, deathly silent, back towards the house, her arm slung over his shoulder and his around her lower back, and when the structure comes into view, she stops them for a minute, and with a sly smile she realises, "You know my name…"

Like music to her ears, Henry breathes a tiny giggle, nodding, "Regina."

"Damn," she purses her lips, "Secret's out."

She can't shake how relieved it is for someone she cares about to finally know. If only it were under different circumstances and a tad more joyous.

Henry smiles weakly, still shaken. "I won't tell them. It's not my place."

Sighing gratefully, she bends the small way to be eye to eye with him. "You are one of the greatest people I know, do you know that?" Henry blushes, but a frown washes it away. She knows his mind is flashing back to images of Sidney on the ground. There're sobs pent up in his chest, more tears still waiting to be spilled. "Henry," she sighs lightly, "One of the reasons I love you so much is because you will do whatever you need to in order to protect your friends."

His eyes are glistening again, looking at the ground, away from her, then whispers, "But good people don't kill."

"The book I gave you, it's filled with heroes, right?" He nods. "What makes them heroes?"

"They always do the right thing…"

Regina brings him into a tight embrace, her chin on his head, her neck straining because of his height, "The right thing isn't always the  _easiest_  thing. You did the right thing today. You're  _my_ hero."

Henry chokes a sob against her chest and wraps tightly around her middle. Robin has noticed them and jogged over the long field between them, but Regina waves him away with a frown as Henry erupts in her hold. Robin's concerned, and rightly so, but he backs away with a hand on his chest in relief, glad to see Henry safe even if in such a sad state.

Regina rubs Henry's back as he cries, mumbles over and over that she's proud of him, thanks him for what he did to keep her safe, and finally breathes into his hair. "I really care about you, Henry. More than I ever thought I'd care about anyone again."

Robin catches her stare, she gauges him for a reaction, and surprisingly what she notices is how his eyes soften, how she can practically see how his heart is melting in his chest. He smiles at her softly and mouths that he'll give them a minute before backing off and away back to the house just in the distance.

"Ditto," Henry says, prying away from her chest. "I'm upset with what happened. But I don't even want to think what I'd be crying over if I hadn't… if I hadn't…"

"Don't even think about that," she hushes, wiping away the wetness from his cheeks. "Robin is waiting for us and if we hurry, we can make it back to Snow and Will before sundown."

Henry's eyes widen, "Will, is he-"

"He's fine," she promises, "A little beaten up, but he'll survive."

"And Snow?" He smiles wildly, a sight that brings about her own wide grin.

"She's eagerly waiting on David," Henry laughs softly. "Why don't we get them reunited, yeah?"

* * *

Robin doesn't let Henry go for a solid five minutes, he's practically trapped in Robin's arms. He and Henry take a moment away from the rest while Regina tends to David's deep wound at the base of his skull, Roland  _ew_ -ing dramatically, making them chuckle softly.

"Seems the tables have turned," Regina teases, taping the final side of the small bandage to the back of his neck.

"Don't get used to it," he murmurs, stretching his head carefully from side to side as he stands up from the porch. "Let's make a promise, yeah?"

Regina looks up and him, tilting her head in question, then he requests, "nobody else gets hurt."

He offers his hand to help her upright, and she agrees. "Deal. Let's hope I never need your medical expertise ever again."

"Or me!" Roland chimes in, completely unaware, but it lightens the sombre mood.

Regina reaches down to pick him up, holds him close. "And you, little man," she smiles before smooching his cheek.

* * *

Robin holds Henry's hand the entire walk back into the city. They're walking ahead; Regina, Roland, and David not far behind, but they collectively agree to give Robin his time.

He's almost lost Henry so many times, Regina too. It's weighing her heart down to the pits of her stomach so she can only assume that Robin's is this same.

It's not until they actually enter the streets of the city that Robin calls for Regina's lead and she does. It's a miracle that she guides them to the mall without so much as a straggling zombie - it's as if the undead has taken the night off, or maybe for once luck is on their side. But she's not going to complain, not ever.

She finds the secret entrance to the mall, helps everyone climb in one by one, Robin last and he thanks her profusely once they are inside.

Everyone has started scoping around the small clothing store, eyeing up the goods on hangers quietly when Robin brings her into a tight hug.

"Henry told me what he had to do," he whispers sadly into her shoulder. She wraps her own arms around him, trying to drown his sorrow in her arms. "He thinks he's a monster."

When she draws back, she makes sure he's paying attention. "He's not. We'll make sure he knows that."

With a squeeze to her hand, Robin walks into the store with her.

"The mall?" Henry asks excitedly. Regina nods, happy to see him perked up a bit. "Maybe there's a toy store..." It's directed at Roland selflessly, the little boy's eyes widening and brightening like the moon.

"Toys?" The youngest of their group claps his hands together, everyone grinning at the long lost childlike innocence that they all secretly miss and crave.

"Yes, toys," Regina promises. "But first, I think we need to show David around. What do you think, Henry?"

"Oh yeah," the teenager chuckles, knowing that Snow is within these walls and eagerly waiting for them to return.

David looks at them all, confused but amused, asking, "me?"

With a wave of her hand and a hushed  _c'mon_ , she makes the group follow. Quietly, they make their way out of the store, into the dim walkways and down to the food court where she knows everyone congregates later in the evening.

The massive group comes into view from the top of the still escalator, heads turning, voices murmuring below and she waves shyly, hoping that they aren't startled or alarmed.

She turns back to David and she knows that he's spotted the person that means the world to him.

There are tears welling in his eyes as  _Snow_  falls from his almost trembling lips and he begins to skip down the stairs.

"Snow!" He yells across the room and their eyes meet. And they embrace wildly, their hands clutching and clawing in disbelief and relief at each other's clothes, hair, anything they can grasp.

Regina watches from afar as the couple reunite, lets her heart swell like a balloon for them, even wipes away a small tear for them too.

"Let's go say hello," Robin pats the boys on the back, urging them to walk down the stairs. But Regina stays back, tells him to go on without him, that she'd be right there.

They deserve this moment alone.

Granny noticed Regina's absence, meeting her above the food court not long after Robin and the rest joined them below.

"You were missed too, you know," Granny assures, swinging the fresh bottle of water her way.

"You're too kind," she smiles softly. "How's Will?" She asks. He's not there with everyone else and it's been eating away at her.

"He's resting," she explains. "Your friend gave him quite the beating."

"He's not my friend, Granny."

Her lips pop, nodding unconvincingly but not a lick of distrust, "Regardless, he's been asking for you. The man who's  _not_  your friend. He's in bad shape, girl."

Regina frowns, but keeps it from view. "Take me to him?" She asks kindly, and Granny nods. She starts guiding Regina upstairs and to the back end of the mall.

"He's in here with Leroy," she tells Regina. "Hope you can get more out of him than I could."

* * *

He's in bad shape. Terrible shape. Leroy is trying to pour water Graham's mouth, but he's fighting it every step of the way; clamping his mouth shut, spitting out the water to the floor if it sneaks in.

He's kept a tight grip on that stubbornness anyway.

"What's wrong with him?" Regina asks, startling them both slightly.

Graham is sweating and convulsing in the chair, his arms strapped tightly on each arm on either side. His head has rolled back, his face pained.

"Looks like withdrawal," Leroy whispers, noting all the symptoms he's seeing. He turns into her and explains, "I think he may be addicted to a drug. He has injection sites all over his body."

"What could it be?" She asks, waving for Leroy to come over and away from Graham's pained groans and violent attempts to break free.

"Could be anything, in all honesty," he shrugs. "He's been begging me not to send him back to them. Why would he do that?"

"I think this may have something to do with it…" she says, reaching into her back pocket for the small black pouch with Graham's name scribbled on the front. Inside are needles, syringes, and a small medicine bottle with no label. "I think you're right. He's addicted to something, but I don't think it's been entirely his choice."

She recalls her surprise when she found it Graham had agreed to go along with Gold's plans. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but she'd prefer to think he'd been acting against his will.

"You think that other man was drugging him?" Regina nods. "Why?"

"I have no idea. Give us a minute?" She asks Leroy softly, and he nods, exits the room.

Graham looks like a disaster. Completely in pain and suffering. She waits until his head has dropped forward again and she steps a bit closer.

"What are they giving you?" He doesn't answer. He's lost in trying to escape his pain. She kneels in front of him and squeezes his arm. His eyes meet hers, so she asks again.

"I don't know. They inject me every morning," he makes out through coughed breath and pained intakes. "I don't know what it is. Sidney usually makes me but he didn't yesterday or today."

Reaching into her back pocket, she shows him the small black pouch and he tries to push away forcefully. "I don't want it," he begs. "I want it to stop."

"You won't get it," she promises. " _If_  you talk."

He huffs out a groan, "What do you want to know?"

" _Everything._ Let's start with Henry," she stands again and towers over him. "Why's he so important to Gold if it's not a vaccine?"

His laughter sputters after he says, "Why would Gold want to vaccinate against something he created?"

"This is Gold's virus?"

"Yeah," he frowns, fidgeting in the chair, and tries to sit straight. "Does that surprise you?"

It doesn't. Not even in the slightest.

" _Why?_ " She demands to know.

That's when he slumps in the chair again, "It's a long story, Regina. And I only have pieces."

Looking around she spots a chair and drags it over so she can sit directly in front of him. "Neither of us has places to be," she sasses, pointing at his restraints. "Give me the short version."

Not without another groan, he mutters, "Gold has a son..."

Regina remembers pictures of a small boy riddled around Gold's office as she grew up, though she never spent much time playing into her curiosity, why this is important is beyond her. "A lot of people have children."

"Gold's son is sick, I don't know what he has, but I know it's bad enough to drive Gold into a frenzy and hire doctors from all over- " he sputters up uncomfortably, "- all over the world. Each one having lost their licences for going into dangerous territory with their research."

"He's looking for a cure," she concludes.

Graham nods with difficulty, falling almost entirely limp in his chair, then he starts laughing awkwardly. "Who knew a man's desperate efforts to save his son from death would wipe out an entire nation." His laughter doesn't subside, but Regina notices as it becomes sad and forced until it filters away entirely.

"If this really was an attempt to cure his son, how the hell did he end up bringing the dead back to life?" She asks, leaning forward on her elbows and glaring at him.

"I honestly don't know, Regina," he says earnestly, and her gut says he's being truthful. "I'm not at the high end of that hierarchy. Everything I know I've heard through cracks in the walls. But I do know that they initially wanted to save Gold's son from his inevitable death. The virus reanimates the body - I'd say he partially succeeded."

"Partially?"

"Don't you see?" Graham asks, hopeful that she might click the pieces together. "This is why he needs Henry so much. Not for a cure, but to add an element to the virus."

Regina's still puzzled and lost, leaning back haphazardly in her chair and letting her limbs fall limp. He tries to explain further, "Gold's virus brings back the physicality but not the person. They're lifeless, soulless. He thinks that Henry's blood may be the key to making a new strain of the virus, one that might keep his son's personality intact."

Listening to Graham's knowledge, Regina grows more and more horrified for Henry, for the pain and suffering he's going to endure if he's ever caught.

"How the hell did this thing get loose?" She asks, dreading the answer.

"We were all led to believe it was an accident. There was a breach in the testing process in their Los Angeles lab. Wiping out more than half of the country was just a bonus, I guess..." he barely makes it through his sentence before sputtering a nasty sounding cough from the depths of his lungs and he throws his head back in pain. "I don't want to go back to them, Regina. I haven't wanted to do any of this, but they -  _ughh_  - they…"

Regina reaches back to her backpack for the water just slipped inside, the question mark branded on the side of the plastic, and opens it to offer Graham. He accepts it eagerly, unlike before, letting her pour into his mouth, not caring what spills down his chin onto his clothes. She tells him to take a minute, slides her chair closer and waits until he can speak again.

"They have Henry's mother, Emma," he tells her as if it's new information.

"I know. They're keeping her as leverage." Regina leans forward to lean her elbows on her knees.

"No," Graham corrects and relays information that Regina wishes she could forever forget, "They're running tests on her. The night that we ransacked their camp, Emma was always the target. Gold gave up on catching Henry. That group -  _your_  group - had him guarded at all times, but he knew that Emma would give herself up if she thought they were after him. And that's exactly what she did."

"Why? If not for leverage, why take her?"

"Cora," Regina's body stiffens when Graham says her name. "She thinks Henry's immunity may be genetic. And Gold was restless, so they decided to go for the next best thing. But it hasn't been working. Her blood isn't helping them at all and... " He stutters and frowns madly. "She doesn't have much longer. When Sid and I left to start tracking the boy, she didn't look like she had much fight left in her." Regina's eyes squeeze closed as she thinks of the woman she's never met but sympathises with greatly. "That was over a month ago."

"Where are they keeping her? In the camp we passed a while back?"

"That's just a hub. The main testing facility is in Chicago. That's where they've been keeping her. That's where our orders come from. You have to get her out of there," Graham insists.

It could be a trap. Graham could be tugging at her newly found hope and fight in order to put everyone in danger. "We can't. Henry can't go anywhere  _near_  Chicago if what you're saying is true."

Graham laughs, but not horribly, it's hopeful and light, "Henry needs to get to Boston. Boston is the one hospital that Gold can't seem to conquer. The doctors there are real, Regina. Real and  _nice_. They are working on a vaccine, an actual vaccine to end this mess. If you try to get him anywhere, get him there. He'll be safe."

Regina wants to believe every word falling from his lips, wants to believe that the innocence she once knew is still buried beneath the scars and the brainwashing. "How do I know I can believe you?"

"Look at me," he gestures to his entire shaking body, glistening with sweat and arched uncomfortably. "I have nothing to lose  _or_  gain at this point." Regina nods reluctantly, letting the innocence that she once knew be her deciding factor. She has faith for once, taking a page out of Robin's storybook. "I don't want to work with them anymore, Regina. If you'll have me, I want to come to your side. I want to help."

God, she wants to believe him. Wants to believe that he's realised how stupid it was to ever trust Gold or her mother in the first place… but her wanting to believe isn't enough, not anymore since she has silently declared herself a member of this group.

"I can't untie you," she says sadly, wanting to release him, if for nothing else than to make him more comfortable. "I may be inclined to trust you, but it's not just me anymore. There's an entire room full of people that you need to convince that you're trustworthy and not a threat. Until every single one of them is comfortable with you being free to walk among them, you stay tied up."

Graham nods eagerly, understanding and in agreement, "That's fair… but at least put a good word in for me?"

"I will," she promises. "And I'll have David come back and talk you through your withdrawal. He's the only one who'll know what to do. It's not going to be easy." She tosses the black pouch violently to the concrete floor and slams her boot over it, glass crunching beneath her soles. "The first step to being free of them is to be clean."

Graham simply nods sadly, letting his entire body go limp as she walks to the door.

"Graham?" She asks as her hand reaches the cool metal of the door handle, "How long do we have until they find us here?"

He drops his head down, only for a moment before looking her way with worried, shameful eyes, "You've one more night. Two if you're lucky."

* * *

Regina walks back to where she was stood before, watches below and Snow and David continue to grasp onto each other's hands, refusing to let go, but there's another interaction that has caught her eye.

Roland and Granny.

The young boy's smile is brighter than any light that she's ever seen and the older woman returns it beautifully. Roland's telling her the stories of his travels and she's responding just as animatedly as he's explaining; large gestures, emphasised faces.

"Roland likes her bedtime stories," Robin says from behind her. She's no idea how long he's been watching her. "She's been great with him."

"It makes her less intimidating," Regina laughs lightly, staring down still. "You think we should tell her?"

"She'd sooner kill us that let us spread such heinous information." Robin sits down on the stairs and she happily joins him, and even happier to see a freshly opened beer offered to her. She looks at it longer than needed before he places it in her hand. "You deserve it."

Beckoning him an appreciative smile, they clink the bottlenecks and savour the first sips together.

"You have that look," he murmurs, studying her face, "The one you get when that you have an idea."

"It's early stages," she brushes off. "It's not worth getting into it tonight."

"Considering the close call you had today, I don't think Henry has much time to spare. If you have an idea to keep him safe, I would really like to hear it."

She sighs, "You're going to think I'm crazy."

"I already do," he teases. "Your idea can't be any crazier than us all sitting here and waiting to be caught."

She chuckles breathily, glad that he's on the same page in that respect. As great as the mall is as a safe haven, they really are sitting ducks.

"Leroy said you think they were drugging him?" Robin mentions. He's trying to warm her up into telling him everything on her mind, and it just might work this time.

"Yeah," she mumbles. "Probably some tactic to keep him a member of their sick club. Looks like they've been giving him enough to keep him addicted."

"I doubt kicking the habit is easy with that lot. Did he talk?" Robin asks patiently, nothing forceful or demanding in his question.

She nods while they look down upon the food court, among friends laughing and rejoicing at their recent reunion. Though through a frown, she mutters, "Unfortunately. And it's not good. Are you sure you're ready for my idea?"

"Yeah," he promises. "Let's hear it."

"Come with me," she mutters quickly, downing as much from the beer bottle she can and leaving it on the top of the stairs.


	12. Chapter 12

Regina makes her way to the rooftop. Snow had told her of the door that led there on her first day here, just in case she needed some air. She didn't then, but boy does she need it now, and she imagines Robin is going to need some after she tells him everything.

The fire door at the top of the stairs needs to be propped open, so she leans as far out as she can with her back leg stretched long, holding the door open as she reaches for the brick she's seen, pulls it awkwardly back to her and crams it under the door to keep it open and in place.

The first thing she does after standing up straight is rotate her shoulders, an endless attempt to rid of the small aches that have gathered over the last few days. There's cold air blowing in their faces, the tiniest glimmer of orange light left on the horizon, just enough to let them see each other.

" _Now_  you look worried," he notices, breathing heavily to counter the number of steps he just climbed. "Should we be worried?"

"I knew Gold was capable of horrible things," she sighs, stepping further into the centre of the rooftop. "It would appear I underestimated him."

Robin looks entirely confused, full of question and wonder. Then she starts to explain. She explains how Gold is responsible for everything they've had to encounter, how they've been hunting Henry to perfect their sick motives. Robin's face is drenched in shock, maybe horror, she can't decide but both are entirely merited. Gold's plan is far more twisted than either of them could have concocted in their minds.

"But you were right about Boston," Regina says quietly, edging towards the long drop down to the parking lot. "The doctors there are looking for a vaccine and they're not working with Gold."

Robin joins her near the edge with crossed arms over the fresh green button down shirt. He must have been given clean clothes, Granny's idea no doubt. He looks good, it fits him well, suits him. But he's obviously taken it from one of the stores in the mall and forgotten to rip the prices from the collar.

She chuckles quietly, reaching over to pull the tag that he's missed and he runs his hands over the waistband of his jeans, just to double check there isn't any more.

"Thanks," he says shyly, sparing a small laugh as she crumbles the soft cardboard in her hands. "This guy down there, he told you this?"

Nodding, she adds quickly and defensively, "I really believe he's telling the truth."

Robin scuffs his feet, digs the heels of his boots into the hard concrete of the rooftop before unfolding his arms and concluding, "We continue to Boston, then. And make sure Gold doesn't lay a hand on Henry."

The wind whistles past them, the sky continues to darken and suddenly Regina is chilled to the bone. She stands arm to arm with Robin, revelling in the warmth of his body.

"We have another problem," she sighs. Robin twists his neck to look at her, but she stares straight ahead at some abandoned skyscraper. "Henry's mother isn't just leverage. They are using her in hopes that she might unlock something in the virus."

She hates to say it but, "She's the practice run before the main event."

"You're certain?"

She nods sadly, emphasising that Graham confessed to how they've been testing on her while devising a more concrete plan to capture Henry, then he asks the dreadful question: "And she's still alive? You're sure?"

"She was the last time Graham saw her, but she won't be for much longer if we don't break her out," Regina sighs and after a hesitant moment of deliberation, she asks, "How much do you trust Snow and David?"

Immediately, it comes off that she's hit a sore spot. His face contorts as if he's about to call her out on something, so she's quick to soothe. "I just mean… would you trust them with your life?"

"Without a doubt," he says sincerely, arms folded and a questioning eyebrow.

"And what about with Roland and Henry's?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I told you my idea was nuts," she reminds him, planting her hands on her hips. "Emma needs help. But we can't risk the boys by dragging them north and closer to where Gold wants them. I think we need to split up. You and I head to Chicago while Snow and David take Henry and Roland towards the coast."

Robin scoffs as if it's the craziest idea he's ever heard - not that she didn't warn him - but she knows that he's considering it, even if only a little. "And the rest of the group can travel too. If little groups all travel different paths towards Boston, Henry will be harder to track. Might buy them some valuable time before Gold sends another duo after them."

The pacing was expected, Robin's heavy boots now burning footprints in the cool concrete, but she's struggling with everything.

She knows her idea is way out of the box and requires him to have a lot of faith in her, and maybe a couple of days ago, before he felt like she might have been betraying him, this might have been easier. But she's watching as every doubt he has, even if he might not want to admit that they're there, is burning at his nerve endings.

Then he bursts.

"You're asking me to believe the words of a man who all but bludgeoned my best friend only minutes prior to trying to kill me. You're asking me to leave my son, to leave Henry…" he's pacing around the rooftop still, circling her with frustrated sighs and grunts. "To encourage every person in there to leave this safe haven and risk their lives. And… and…"

He halts suddenly, his fists crunched into balls as he battles with himself, "and there is something about you that makes me want to do just that."

Robin's rubs over his eyes, clearly stressed and she hates herself for dropping so much on him at once. He calms rather quickly, considering, exhaling heavily. "For whatever reason, and even though I feel like I should be riddled with doubt, I don't have a single doubt for you in any way and that absolutely terrifies me."

Regina rubs up and down her arms, warming her chilled skin as he spits out everything his mind is rattling around. "I don't know anything about you. I don't know where you grew up. I don't know where you went to college, _if_ you went to college… What kind of music you like, what you really, really miss from before the outbreak. I don't even know your name… and all I want to do right now is march downstairs, pack my sodding backpack and go to get Emma back with you. Tell me how any of that makes sense."

His pacing stops, he's almost breathless when he stops and stares at her, but she doesn't know what to do. She doesn't dare to catch his gaze, she turns away and walks back to the edge of the rooftop, looking back down at the parking lot.

From behind her, Robin mutters, "I need to think about this. I'm going back inside."

As his boots beat the ground as he walks away, Regina's mind focuses on the long drop down and she thinks back to before she found Robin, to when living alone was what she strived to keep intact.

Just like the moment she agreed to go back to his camp, she finds herself at another crossroad. It's one choice or another: a life alone or a life fighting with Robin and the boys.

Going back to her life alone would be like succumbing to the drop before her. It could go slow, it could go fast. She may reflect on everything or her mind may go blank, but no matter what happens, the end will be disastrous.

Then there's choosing to turn and convince Robin. The number of approaches are endless with an infinite number of outcomes. She just has to decide.

"Washington," she calls over her shoulder, just before turning and hoping that what she has to say piques his interest.

It does, he's turned back around but stands in place a few steps from the door. She continues, "I grew up in Washington, D.C. When I was seven, we moved to the country. A nice house in Virginia. My mother hated it but I didn't care. My father loved to take me on walks and convinced me to start riding horses. That's how I met Daniel," her lips upturning with a hint of a smile. "He was the love of my life and showed me that detaching from my mother's reins was not only possible but that it was great. So, so great."

Robin has edged closer towards her, his lips clamped shut, not daring to halt her rambling.

"College? I got into Georgetown. My mother demanded that I go, but my father wouldn't let me sign my soul away to a life I didn't want. He convinced Daniel to pack me a bag and drive. We kept driving until we hit California and we never looked back. That was the last time I saw my father before he died." She's surprised how easily everything is falling from her lips, how much weight is falling off her shoulders.

She tries to recall Robin's quickly strung together list of questions, then remembers. " Music. Uhh, I mean… I usually tell everyone I like pop because it's generic. No one ever asks more into it, they just assume hits at the time. But truth be told, I love rock. I love country. I love… sixties and seventies British artists. The Smiths are my favourite, I was convinced I was going to marry Morrissey when I grew up."

Robin snorts an amused laugh through his nose, and she does too. "Not a bad choice," he mutters, grinning. "Things you miss?"

"Where do I even start?" She asks with a slap to each thigh. "Showers. Seeing a movie. Coffee. You may trust me now, but I swear I'd give you to Gold in a heartbeat if he offered me some."

She kidding, he laughs so she knows her humour shone through. But,  _God_ , she'd kill for a hot cup of coffee.

"What else?" He asks softly.

Shrugging, she gives the most obvious answer he could expect. "I miss not being on the run and worrying about being eaten alive. I miss not waking up each morning and having my first thought being about whether or not I'll live to see another sunrise…"

Robin has barely blinked since she started, has given her the entirety of his attention and during it all has been edging closer and closer to her. He barely an arm away when she exhales deeply and prepares herself for the confession that he craves.

"My name is Regina Mills…" then she waits for a beat, looks down, admitting sadly, "I hate this life, I hate what I've become and what I've had to do, but for months I was convinced I was going to be alone forever without anyone to help me find my way back home. Emma is locked in a room somewhere close to death and I can't bear the thought of her sitting alone convinced she's going to die without ever seeing her son again."

He takes a final step until they're almost toe to toe, and whispers. "Regina… it suits you. I'm a bloody fool for not thinking of it."

Laughing shyly, she tucks a loose strand of hair from her braid behind her ear. "That's all you gathered from that?"

He shakes his head and assures, "what I gathered is that you are more than capable of tearing down your walls. That you are strong. And you have a heart bigger than you give yourself credit for. You've never even met Emma and yet you're willing to risk your life and seeing your mother in order to save hers."

"If I've learned anything from you," she starts shyly, clearing her throat a little, "It's that everyone deserves a second chance at life. You helped give me one. I only want to make sure Emma has a chance at one too."

Robin's toe to toe with her now, cascading his hand up her arm, from her elbow to shoulder, and squeezes. "You're amazing. And it's a pleasure to properly meet you, Regina." He laughs, snorts almost. "That's weird."

With the smallest of eye rolls, she asks, "you're going to make me sick of my name, aren't you?"

"Without a doubt," he confirms, sharing a short chuckle with her.

Their faces are painfully close and if she inched forward, their noses would brush and she really wants to… but she doesn't, instead she asks him: "will you sleep better now that you finally know?"

He shakes his head, joking. "After you just told me you'd toss me to the wolves for a cup of coffee? Not a chance."

She howls almost. A hearty laugh from deep in her belly that she didn't even know she could muster anymore.

"Alright," she reasons, pursing her lips. "I'll spare you. No promises on David though."

His smile shines through the blanket of darkness that has taken of the night sky. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. How about we head back inside, maybe tell the others about your plan?"

Nodding, she steps back from him and walks towards the propped open fire exit, but his hand on her elbow pulls her back around.

"Regina…" he almost whispers her name, a melody from his lips that she didn't know she needed. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me."

Her smile is tight lipped. "Thanks for making me feel like I could."

* * *

Regina finishes explaining what she knows, confessing to them about her mother's involvement in everything, suggested her plan, but so far everyone has met her with radio silence.

"What do we think?" Robin asks hopefully to the crowd around him, splaying his palm over her back supportively. It's nice to know he's there and in agreement with her ideas.

Of course, David is the first to pipe up with his opinion, and he's very clearly on the fence. "It's a bit of a mad idea, don't you think?"

"It is," Regina agrees. "And I completely understand if you would all feel safer sticking together, I-"

"No," he waves away her rambling, so she slumps back with tight lips. "It's brilliant. They won't be expecting six or seven trails to track."

"Yeah!" Leroy agrees, aggressively slamming his hand to the table he's sitting by. "They'll be so turned about we might even be able to get a few days head start. Maybe even a week."

Everyone else starts mumbling around in agreement, most of the group keen on her insane plan. Leroy begins splitting everyone into groups, even offers to be the one to travel with Graham and keep him as safe as possible whilst making sure he didn't stray.

Granny starts making lists of things everyone needed to pack and where they could find everything. Regina's ready to jump in and help wherever she can, but Granny tilts her head over Regina's shoulder, telling her to go.

Henry taps on Regina's elbow - Granny must have seen him coming - and he darts his eyes over to the wall. He wants to talk alone, she figures as much when he looks around to make sure others aren't noticing their wordless conversation.

She follows, already knowing what he's going to say, so before he can get a word in, she tells him, "not a chance, Henry."

"But-" he stutters sadly, slightly annoyed. "But she's my  _mom_."

"I know," she tells him, understanding completely where he's going from, but he needs to understand, "but this isn't a game. If they catch you, you will die. Do you realise that?" His face whitens and he avoids eye contact. "If I take you to Chicago and your mother realises that Robin and I were stupid enough to put you in that much danger, she will destroy us."

"I hate being separated," he admits, the truth fighting out passed his teeth. "What if something happens to you or Robin?"

"It won't matter," she tells him quietly, sternly, but her looks softens when she wonders if he's had a change of heart. "Do  _you_  still want to go to Boston?"

"Of course I do," he spits back, a tiny bit harsh but not enough to have her say anything. "Ugh, I just want to help you and Robin get my mom back."

"That's  _exactly_  what Gold wants, Henry. He's an expert at manipulating a person in the most twisted ways possible. He knows you'd give yourself up for her." Henry's face becomes neutral, but she has to finish. "That's why we can't let you."

"What if Boston is a bust? What if we drag them all that way for nothing? Then what?"

He's agitated, and the absence of hope in his eyes is what bothers her the most. Given the last week or so, she can hardly blame him, but this virus has taken enough - she won't let it take Henry's belief that anything is possible.

"If we get to Boston and it turns out to be nothing, at least we can continue on knowing that we did everything we could. I know it's a lot of pressure, but you're the one who kept telling me how important it is to try." Henry grumbles under his own breath, frustrated at having his own words used against him. "And don't worry about us. Robin and I will take care of each other. I'm sure we'll both be fine as long as we work together."

They're interrupted by Roland pulling at Regina's trousers; he's stealthily snuck up on them. "Hey, you," she mumbles happily, bending down to his level. "Have you been helping your dad?"

Roland nods with a dimpled grin, "They're almost done, 'Gina." Regina's eyes narrow immediately to Henry, who's staring down at the young face with hands slapped over his mouth. "Oops," he whispers. "Sorry. Henry said not to tell."

She isn't mad in the slightest, there isn't a chance she could be, especially not at these two boys. "It's alright," she assures them both, looking up high to Henry again, her eyes softer. "What do you say that while everyone gathers their things, we sneak away and find you both somewhere comfortable to sleep tonight?"

Roland smacks his hands together giddily, stealing smiles from Regina and Henry. She takes both of their hands and they attempt to go unnoticed up the stairs. They aren't followed at all, so they hunt from store to store looking for anything worthy of their efforts.

"What do you think?" She asks Henry. His mind is running wild, she can feel him thinking. So she tries to take his mind off the wandering thoughts. "Any ideas on the sleeping arrangement?" He shrugs, much like she's seen any down-in-the-dumps teenager do, but she keeps going, "we have an entire mall at our advantage and you can't think of  _one_  thing?"

He almost smirks at her teasing, a tiny smile he tries to hide even though he knows she catches a glimpse of it every time.

"Okay, I do have one. But we're going to need pillows. Lots of them."

* * *

She always wanted to make a fort when she was little, but her lack of friends and siblings made it next to impossible. However, now she has two excited boys and a department store at her disposal and she is so excited she could fly.

They strolled along to Macy's, found every blanket and pillow that they could and went nuts. The propped and stuffed and buried until they had themselves an expertly constructed fort of duck feathers and wool blankets.

It was so comfortable when she first lay on it, the softness swallowing her deep into its clutches, so as much as Regina wanted to leave the boys to their fun to help the others with their preparations, she just couldn't bring herself to climb out of the bliss. And then when Roland pleaded with her to read them a bedtime story, she was doomed to stay with them until they fell asleep.

Together they read through the next wondrous chapter of Henry's book. She muttered word after word until Roland was snoring lightly in her arms and the words started feeling heavier and heavier until she'd fallen asleep with Henry turned away on her left and Roland tucked away on her right, but the peace is short-lived.

She wakes to the sound of her whispered name and a gentle shake to her shoulder. Roland is still curled tightly into the space under her arm and Henry isn't too far from her other side. Robin's gently pulling her from her early slumber.

"Regina," he whispers again, "Wake up."

She worries at first, her eyes popping open and a hand instinctively reaching down the gun in her jeans. "What's wrong?" Her voice is hushed, not daring to wake the younger boys.

"Nothing, don't worry," he assures, shifting Roland away from her and taking both of her hands to pull her upright. "Come with me."

"The boys…" she looks down at the floor, their pillowed masterpiece, where they are lying.

"I've got them, girl." Granny is waiting by the entrance to the store, an entirely unnecessary pillow under her arm. "You go."

Robin barely lets her process anything, instead he started walking, one of her hands clasped in his to guide her through the eerily quiet and darkened floor of the mall. He has a flashlight, a tiny thing but it does the job, and he brings them near a small haven of bright candle light at the far end of the shopping centre. Her nose is instantly invaded by the smell of potent vanilla, cinnamon, flowers… the Yankee Candle store appears to have served them well.

Snow and David are on deck chairs in the middle of the store, their hands gripped together like they have been since the moment of their reunion, and they're passing an amber liquid back and forth, taking burning swigs of alcohol.

"What is this?" Regina asks with an amused smile.

Robin squeezes her hand firmly, and tells her: "you told me what you miss about the old life. And after much thought, we have all decided that we need to let loose. I think an evening of fun is in order."

"You want to have a party?" She chuckles, her heart fluttering and itching to have a hearty gulp of that booze.

David notices how her eyes are latched to it and stretches out to hold it her way, smirk and all, "For you,  _Regina_."

David's eyes glaze over with a layer of teasing and she can't help but eye roll in Robin's direction. "You blabbed," she sighs lightly, suppressing the laugh ready to escape from the depths of her abdomen. "You and your son have that in common, it appears.

"Apologies," Robin grins, dropping her hand so she can grip the neck of the offered bottle. "Perhaps the surprise I have for you can make up for it."

"This isn't the surprise?" She coughs after her quick shot of tequila, enjoying the burn down her throat.

Robin smiles sweetly and skips over to the far side of the store and disappears behind a rack of clothes, kneeling down to the ground.

Then she's startled by a sound. Not just any sound. Music. And not just any music… her favourite song.

The Smiths start playing somehow and she doesn't care how he made it happen. The sound of  _This Charming Man_  filtering through the shop instantly brings a pinch to the backs of her eyes, gathering tears.

Fifteen seconds of music has her almost reduced to tears. She knew she missed it, but she never knew she missed it quite this much.

Robin has walked back to her, nothing short of a slight smirk on his face.

"How?" She asks softly, shaking her head.

"We raided the music store after you fell asleep with Roland and Henry, and would you believe they have record players that are battery powered?"

Her hand has made its way to her chest and her heart is beating so fast, to the beat of the song she never thought she'd hear again. "This is my favourite song," she fawns, her eyes still glistening with unshed tears that she didn't know music could muster. "This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me in a long time."

"You deserve it," David chimes in. "Music is the least we could do for you."

"You're right," she says jokingly, coughing away the lump in her throat and ignoring his raised eyebrow. "I'll keep the booze," she sasses, and Robin laughs, laughs loudly, when she playfully clutches the bottle to her chest.

She almost tells him that she loves his laugh. It's so carefree and so completely him. But she bites her tongue, keeps that little tidbit to herself for another evening. "I'm kidding, I'll share… but only because you're growing on me."

She gives the bottle to Robin and he takes it easily, swigging a hearty amount, and when he swallows, he grins, "Told you we would."

"You can't possibly be wrong all the time, Robin," Snow sasses. She pulls another chair up next to her and tells Regina to sit.

* * *

Seven shots later (maybe eight or nine, she can't actually remember) she finds herself lying on a mountain of clothes. They hastily ripped them from the hangers - shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, anything really - and tossed them on the floor for cushioning. Robin's laying by her side, the bottle empty and rolled away from them to some unknown section of the shop floor.

With Snow and David gone, they went back to focusing on music and Regina is in heaven. Robin seems to be into the same artists she is, so it's bliss. They've moved to Grateful Dead, he's humming away to the melody as she closes her eyes and soaks it in.

Something sparks his interest, though. Maybe a particular chord bringing about a thought or a lyric making him curious. Regardless, she feels him shift slightly next to her and then hears a drawled, "Regina?"

She peeks through one eye and laughs heartily, alcohol buzzing behind it like fumes. He's on his side, his hand holding up his head as he perches on his elbow. She copies him, turns to face him, and says, "Robin?" chuckling softly.

He bites his bottom lip before starting, "If I'm prying, feel free not to say anything." She narrows her eyes, curious and awaiting his request. "I'd love to know more about Daniel."

"You would?" She's not surprised that he's curious about her, she only surprised that it's not a query about her mother or her connection with Gold. He's really keeping his word about the no zombie talk and then he's nodding shyly.

"I wouldn't even know where to start," she puffs out a breath.

"You mentioned you met him riding horses."

Smiling fondly, she says, "Yes. We met when I was sixteen. He worked in a local stable that I would go to."

"Was it an instant connection?" He asks, turning even more so that he's lying flat on his stomach but still turning his head to face her.

She outright laughs at his question, "God no. My mother forbade me from dating so I rarely thought about falling in love. But he persisted and before I knew it, I was falling. Out of nowhere and fast," she bites her bottom lip, stops herself from giving a twenty minute lecture on Daniel "What about you and Marian?"

"Hardly instant either," he huffs. "She found me when I was in a really bad place and saw the good in me before anyone else would. She helped me out of many a slump and I'd have been a fool to let her slip through my fingers after that."

"She was beautiful," she smiles sweetly, recalling that even through the terror of their encounter, she still remembers the sun-kissed skin and gorgeous features.

"Thank you. I swear I see more and more of her in Roland every day." Robin begins to fidget with his fingers, itching to change the subject she assumes.

It's late. Really late. If they've any hope of getting away early enough tomorrow they should end this night where it is.

"Perhaps we should get some sleep?" She asks, only slurring slightly - a combination of alcohol and exhaustion.

"You're right," he grunts, shifting his body until he's completely parallel to her. "Let's sleep."

"Here?" She giggles.

Did… did she just giggle? That's definitely the tequila.

"I fear that I may topple over if I try to stand," he confesses, turning his body in towards her. "You're welcome to make your way back."

"No," she breathes. He's probably right. Right? Who knows, but she turns away from him and welcomes the arm he drapes around her far too easily.

"'Night, R'gina," he murmurs tiredly into her hair, squeezing her into his warm chest.

His heart is thumping against her back, a calming lub-lub vibrating her rib cage, and she suddenly feels like she's home. She can't explain it. It's like she's found herself not in the midst of the end of the world and comfortable in a place she feels safe.

And then she remembers that feeling in her stomach when she realised she was falling for Daniel. Falling hard and fast. The build up of butterflies in her stomach, ones she wants to suppress but knows she can't. The craziest roller coaster she could ever encounter. Robin dared her to open her heart to new possibilities, but it would appear that she maybe opened up her heart a little too much.


	13. Chapter 13

_Five Days Later…_

If pushing people away was an Olympic sport, Regina would win gold every single time.

Though, this time around, it really feels like it's in everyone's best interest to keep the distance. Before they were trying to survive, but this time they're actively walking into the eye of a storm, and there's this horrible pit in her stomach.

Something bad is going to happen. She can feel it.

It all started when they were saying goodbye to everyone at the mall. That's when it really started to sink in that their future now, more than ever, is unknown… or could be nonexistent.

Roland held on to Robin as if his life depended on it, and Henry's goodbye was far too sincere to be filled with much hope. He wrapped his arms around Regina's neck tightly and mumbled a solemn farewell, telling her to be safe and to take care of Robin. She chuckled at that, squeezed him even more until they had a tiny Roland between them.

She didn't catch much of Henry's goodbye with Robin as she was completely occupied with Roland's sad, trembling lips. She promised him David would take care of him, promised that she would keep his papa safe… what else was she supposed to do? She gathered him up in her arms and kissed a gentle thing into his mopped hair, and that's when the pit started anchoring her worry heavily in the depths of her soul.

They left quickly after all that. The longer they kept saying the same goodbye, the harder it was to pick up their bags.

Thus began their five day trek of limited chat and the robotic set up of their nightly camps. Much like leaving the mall, the more hours that passed, the harder it became to start a conversation.

She figures the second they come face-to-face with Gold or Cora, all hell will break loose and they need to be level-headed. If pulling away makes that easier on them, then that's what they should do.

Robin seems to have a different idea, however, and breaks their almost two day silence.

She's quite a few steps ahead of him when he calls out, "Have I pissed you off or something?"

His question renders her still, maybe even startling her a little (though she'd never admit it) as she turns to watch him struggle to catch up with her. She's taken aback slightly, and answers with confused, "No?"

"Oh," he shrugs it off, but there's sass following closely behind, she can practically smell it. "Usually when someone goes from snuggling up close one night to barely speaking two words the next, I assume I've done something unspeakable. Though, I imagine you'd just say I'm mistaken?"

"Correct," she clears her throat with a nod, ignoring the few large droplets of rain that have started to fall from the darkening grey sky high above the trees that surround them; she'd thought a storm was coming, could taste it in the air. "We're fine."

"We're hardly fine," Robin argues as the rain starts to fall harder, battering against the dirty forest floor beneath them and drenching them.

He abandons his point for a moment, guiding them off to the side until they are somewhat shielded from the unforgiving sky above, just in time for it to roar at them with a thundering clap. "Ugh, hold this," he says loudly, swinging his backpack off his shoulders for her to hold up for him as he rummages inside.

It's actually quite genius how he throws their tarp above them, draping it across the low branches and providing them with a small area of protection from the cold downpour - a very, very small area. As the rain batters the ground around them, they stand toe-to-toe, avoiding eye contact more than their noses are able to.

Over the rain, she hears him exhale a bit of a scoffed laugh. "Is this  _because_  of the other night?"

"Will you just drop it?" she groans, folding her arms tightly across her chest despite how uncomfortable her damp clothes feel against her skin. "We are travelling across the country on what can easily be considered a suicide mission, so excuse me for not being so concerned with our conversation habits."

Somehow he manages to step closer to her, their ice cold noses bumping, and her heart is beating so fast. This is the problem. This is what she's trying to avoid. Ever since that tequila-fueled night, she's been trying to forget about the way she felt wrapped up in his arms. She's tried to push aside how her heart fluttered as he tightened his hold around her, or how even the sound of his stupid snoring made her feel safe.

She'd been trying to convince herself for days and for miles that she's worried that their odd relationship might lead to a lapse of judgement, but the truth is - the problem is - that she knows for certain that if his life were in danger, she'd do whatever she needed to in order to keep him safe, even if it meant doing something risky or stupid. And she can tell by his insistence and frustration that he would do the exact same for her.

"Please don't close yourself off again," he pleads in a whisper, their foreheads almost touching now.

She sighs, darts her eyes up to his for only a second, scoffing lightly. "You make that nearly impossible."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing…" He shrugs his shoulders high and drops them in defeat. "We've been through too much to resort back to before. We're not strangers who don't trust or care about each other."

"Don't you see that's the problem?" she bites, stepping back from him. The rain is much calmer now, and she wanders out from underneath the tarp. "Because of  _you_ , all I can think about is how broken I'm going to be when something happens to you."

" _When?_ " Robin asks, biting back a bit. He steps out from the tarp too but clumsily drops his backpack to the soaked ground. The contents spill out everywhere: the poles for his tent, a few silver cans, and he bends to his knees to stuff them back inside. "Of course you're pulling away if you've already convinced yourself that I'm going to get hurt. You really are just dead set on being alone, aren't you?" He zips up his bag with a hint of fury running through him, standing up and planting his feet firmly in the wet mud. "I know we've all been through a lot, but the sooner you realise that being alone isn't going to protect you from what's out here, the better we will all be for it."

She laughs bitterly, throwing her bag down to the ground in any attempt to shake off the frustration, but it fails. "Being alone was never about protection, it was about accepting this new fucked up reality we live in," she gestures around madly. "I had just accepted that being alone was my new normal and then  _you_  had to shoot an arrow in my face with your persistence and your fancy accent and convince me to come with you."

These few days of near silence have obviously fueled her up with a lot to say because she's just rambling at this point. Her filter is all but gone, and there's nothing stopping what's about to come. "I was doing just fine on my own and then you brought two boys into my life who couldn't have stolen my heart any faster. And because of you, I started trusting again. And I started laughing and smiling and opening up and being positive…" she trails off sadly, taking the time to inhale heavily, "... and then the next thing I know we're on some mission to save someone I've never even met, and on top of it all  _I_  suggested it, and you're out here wanting me to open up more while you're making picking up miscellaneous cans off the ground look like the most attractive thing in the fucking world and…" She throws her head back, her wet braid hanging heavier than usual. "... And I am  _furious_  at you for all of it."

She's not sure when he started making large strides towards her. She imagines it could have been somewhere between admitting that she finds him attractive and telling him that she's angry with him, but either way, he's marching in her direction. And there's something different about him, there a determination she hasn't seen before when he takes her still rambling face in his hands and leans down to close the gap between them, his lips capturing hers heedlessly.

Breath hitches in the back of her throat, startled, but she's not pulling away, nope. Instead, she's melting into him - that son of a bitch - and she's pressing her front closer to him, kissing him back like it's all she's been thinking about since she woke up in his arms. But she's supposed to be angry with him, so against the flutter in her stomach, she rips her lips away, stepping away slightly with heavy breaths.

"I'm sorry," he mutters immediately, closing his eyes and shaking his head madly as he tries to find any sort of reasoning in his actions, but they are cut short when Regina's hand swings up to swipe him swiftly across the cheek, and then she's the one apologising into cupped palms over her mouth. "No," he assures her, "No, I definitely deserved that."

"Why did you do that?" she asks, her hand on her chest.

"You were yelling at me and-"

"And what? You thought the only way to shut me up was to kiss me?"

He stammers on his thought, his mouth dropping. "I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you. I  _have_  wanted to kiss you… I… I don't know why I did it. It just happened."

This is exactly what she's been afraid of. They're not even in danger yet and they're getting caught up in petty arguments and affection, so she does just what she's good at - she pushes him away, at least for right now, as she tries to wrap her head around his sudden outburst.

Regina picks up her backpack and starts walking again through the sludgy mud of the ground, ignoring the way he's calling out to her. She walks and walks and walks until her feet are numb and her back aches and the sun is moments from setting and leaving them in total darkness.

* * *

Regina has been trying to fall asleep for at least an hour now, but she can't seem to simmer down enough to allow herself that luxury. She's tossed and turned uncomfortably until she gives up entirely and lays flat on her back, staring upward at the ruby red of her tent and accepting the fact that it's freezing and her mind isn't going to let her forget it.

That and she's been replaying that kiss over and over in her head. It's not how she thought their first kiss would go. Not that she's ever considered their first kiss before… but that wasn't even in the realm of possibilities.

Her cheeks start to redden and get warmer as she thinks about her reaction, and she groans loudly, regretting her choice, but she was in shock and hadn't a single clue what else to do.

 _It just happened._  It's the same reason Robin gave. Maybe she understands the impulsive behaviour more than she was willing to let on.

Robin's still awake. He would have let the fire die out, but she can see the flickering light from the flames through the thin fabric of her shelter, and every so often she can hear the turn of a page; Robin had borrowed one of Henry's books with the promise of giving it back when they saw each other again.

 _When_ , not if.

Regina sighs deeply when she sits up, untangling herself from the thin blanket wrapped around her legs and crawls across the crumbly ground back to the campfire.

"Hey," Robin says softly, closing his book and straightening his back off the tree trunk he'd been leaning again. He clears his throat before asking, "Can't sleep?"

"Not even close," she sighs, still crawling over until she can twist and plant herself, sitting down next to him, sharing the tree to lean against firmly. She sighs deeply, closing her eyes and groaning, "I'm sorry for hitting you."

"Not a worry," he assures, but she knows he's only being polite. Still, she'll take it. "Was it really that bad?" He's kidding, smirking like a schoolboy as he waits for her reaction.

"Ha. Ha." She rolls her eyes, but she dissolves into a bit of laughter with him, and just like that her anxiety has melted away and she's back to feeling that special sense of safety around him. That's the only reason she feels comfortable to admit, "I'm terrified."

"You're not alone there," he mutters, leaning forward a bit to poke and prod at the almost dead fire in front of them. The nights have really started to get a lot colder, and she's feeling it more and more, like the closer they get to the danger, the icier the air feels on her skin. "And you're cold."

"Yeah," she breathes, tucking her knees in close to her chest. It must have been the chattering teeth and knees bobbing that gave her away.

Robin tells her to get close to the heat of the fire while he reaches over for the big blanket she's so glad he has been willing to lug around. He drops the stick in his hand into the fire and stands up straight with a groan from deep in his belly, bending over to rub his palms over his knees. They're both riddled with their own aches and pains, and this sudden drop in temperature isn't doing them any good.

"Scoot forward," he instructs quietly as he stands up straight with the blanket in his arms.

With her heels out in front, she drags herself through the dirt floor and closer to the fire, as close as she can without burning herself and crosses her legs, crosses her arms and leans towards the warmth of the flames. The heat feels almost painful on her nose and the red, raw skin of her cheeks.

Robin opens the blanket up wide and she waits for him to drape it over her, but instead she's met with his legs around either side of her, scooping around her own, with his chest pressed firmly against her back and the blanket clutched in his fists. He wraps his arms around her front, cocooning them inside.

His cold nose presses into the crook of her neck and he asks, "Better?"

It is. Her veins are finally thawing and her fingers are beginning to tingle as the feeling in her limbs climbs back to normal. "Yes," she whispers, burying her nose in the blanket to her side. "We need to start sleeping indoors."

"That we do," he agrees. "Even if it takes us out of our way. Talk about a harsh winter, huh?"

She chuckles quietly into the fabric by her face until they fall silent again, sharing their warmth within the blanket with nothing but the sound of a crackling fire.

"You said you were scared," he whispers against her shoulder. "It's because of what Graham said to you," he states, knowing it's been on her mind for miles, most likely because it's been on his, too. "I didn't want to push you for an explanation at the time."

As they were preparing to leave the mall, Graham had been brought down from his makeshift prison and into the custody of Leroy and Will. Only he wouldn't shut up. He kept telling them that they were walking into a trap, that they'd never make it in alive, let alone out. But the kicker, the one thing that shook her to the very core, is when he scoffed a chuckle and told Regina, "You're doing exactly what she wants." She had snapped her head around and scowled at him, but luckily Leroy was just as done with his bullshit as she was. He dragged Graham out of there before she could react really, and she'd just assumed Robin hadn't taken notice to it.

Turns out she was wrong there, and right now, lying to Robin feels impossible, especially in his arms like this. He's given her a bubble to be vulnerable in.

"Do you remember when I told you about my mother?" she starts, "About how she and Gold used to work together?" Robin nods, and she relaxes back into him more. "I think they still do."

"You think your mum is involved?"

"The man in the forest," Regina reminds him, "the one Henry protected me from. He has worked for her for years, and he all but told me she was alive and responsible for almost everything that's going on." Robin has linked his fingers with hers as she speaks. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

"No need to apologise," Robin assures her softly. "I just hate to tell you that Henry already spilled the beans."

She huffs a short laugh.  _Of course he did_. "You didn't say anything."

"I knew you would when you were ready." He shrugs. "I've known you long enough now to know that you don't keep things from me to be malicious, you keep things from me because you need time to process them yourself, and I'd be a terrible friend if I didn't respect that." He shrugs again.

"Friend?" she asks with an air of confidence around herself that she would have never expected, and she regrets it almost immediately, groaning and dropping her head to her knees and Robin just chuckles at her expense.

"Tell me about your mother?" he asks, ignoring her question entirely,  _thank God,_ but Regina doesn't even know where to start about Cora. She considers maybe starting with some of the good stuff to lessen the blow; the trip to the zoo when she was seven, the birthday party when she was ten, but even a thousand stories of good times wouldn't save them in the end.

"My mother is cruel," she says with a snarl, desperate to shake away any memory that might come rushing back. "Cruel and determined. When she sets her mind to something, she will obtain it no matter who and what she has to demolish in order to get it."

"She sounds like a ball of sunshine," Robin jokes lightly.

"It isn't funny, Robin," Regina sighs. She usually appreciates his humour, his lightheartedness, but where her mother is concerned, she can't bring herself to find anything amusing. "She's ruthless, and she has a way of breaking people down to nothing. She enjoys it." She squeezes the fingers he'd twisted with hers, bowing her head when she tells him, "That's why we need to get Emma out of there. I can't imagine what my mother is doing to her to break her down."

"Is that why you suggested we do this?" he asks her softly, reading her mind. "Guilt?"

When she exhales heavily, she slumps in his hold, admitting, "Partly, I guess. I don't know," she blows a harsh breath through her lips. "I have spent most of my life feeling responsible for the things she does. She's such a…" There are a plethora of words she could pick from.  _Bitch_  springs instantly to mind, along with horrid, evil and demonic, but she decides on, "... ugh, she's just difficult. Manipulation is her superpower and it's my kryptonite."

"Henry really got you into those comic books, didn't he?" Robin jokes lightly, and this time she allows herself the appreciative giggle.

"It would appear so," she smiles as she thinks of the kids, but it's immediately washed over with relief that she knows they're safe with David and Snow. She doesn't even want to imagine what Cora would do to those boys. "I was such a pushover," she admits, "Growing up in that house, I was so afraid of her, she could have convinced me to do pretty much anything."

"Until Daniel?"

She laughs fondly, nodding, "Daniel was  _her_  kryptonite."

"And what was his superpower?" he asks.

"Same as you," she says, craning her neck around to look at him, finally, and catches a glimpse of his icy blues glistening with hints of orange as they reflect the fire from the ground. "Hope."

"You don't make it sound like a very impressive superpower," he pouts in jest.

She hums, considering his complaint. "The truth is, I've never understood it. You're just like him, you know…" She doesn't say it to make him uncomfortable, she's merely pointing out a fact that is forever screaming her in the face.

"How's that?" he asks, and she can feel how genuinely curious he is by the way he runs his nose across her shoulder and into the curve of her neck.

"You're nothing like my mother."

"Lord, let's hope not," he groans against her. "For the record, it doesn't seem like you're much like her either. So much for an apple never falling far from the tree."

Her lips twitch up at his words, appreciating them madly. "I used to be sure that we could never be more opposite if we tried. Though ever since the outbreak started, I hate to admit that I've started to understand her more." Robin hums inquisitively. "It's all survival at the end of the day. We all do anything to get by. I guess where our differences lie is in what it takes for us to feel safe. Cora needs to maintain a lavish lifestyle where she's powerful and us… well, I suppose anything that guarantees another sunrise." Regina's finally starting to feel much warming under this blanket, wrapped up with him. "That's why I suggested that we need to get Emma. She deserves to feel safe."

"Do you feel safe?" he asks, frowning rather strongly when Regina shifts away from him, leaving him alone in the blanket cocoon.

She doesn't go far, only shifts around to face him on her knees with her back to the fire that's almost entirely out. "I do right now," she confesses easily, basking in the feeling she's been so convinced she needs to avoid. Then she whispers timidly, "I'm really sorry I hit you."

"It's quite alright," he mutters, throwing the blanket off his shoulders; it got really toasty in there. "But let me ask you this," he ponders, edging to sit up on his own knees. "If I were to, say, kiss you again, would my face receive the same treatment?"

 _Oh God_ , she thinks, swallowing firmly and nervously, but she shakes her head. And that sparks them off.

He reaches for the back of her neck and draws her to him, their lips meeting. There's no crescendo, just a huge leap into careless, desperate kisses that they've spent days, if not weeks, trying to keep at bay.

She'll regret it in the morning, she knows she will. But for now, she chooses to let herself fall into him without a second thought. For the first time in a long time, she just lets herself experience what the universe is throwing at her; the craziest superpower that might never be understood: hope.


	14. Chapter 14

She's been awake for a while now, listening to how the wind collides with the flimsy material of Robin's tent. She'd forgotten what this was like, to wake up cocooned in arms; Robin had woken up first at the mall so she never had the luxury, but this morning, he was snoring away softly until he stirred awake, too.

She held her breath at first, wondering if he would say something, but he didn't. He dropped a kiss to the back of her head and spooned in even closer to her.

Daniel used to do this with her. In the mornings, sometimes he'd shut off the alarm and roll back over to hold her for a few more minutes before their day fell into full swing. Or there were the mornings, usually Sundays, when he would try to get up and she would whine playfully at the loss of warmth and reach back to grip onto his shirt until he caved and crawled back into bed.

It's different with Robin, though. His arms are broader, she really feels tucked in, and she just has this feeling that only a threat could rip him away from her right now.

"I can hear you thinking," he whispers against her hair.

She smiles sleepily, her eyes still closed and she hums from the back of her throat, "Maybe you just have freakishly good hearing?" His chuckled laughter vibrates against her shoulder. "What exactly are you hearing me think about?" She twists awkwardly, not quite fully turning around but enough to see him.

"How devilishly handsome I am, obviously," he grins, causing her to scoff a lighthearted laugh as she twists around completely among the blankets. She rests back against his outstretched arm like a pillow (it has to be numb at this point) and accepts his hesitant kiss. "No regrets, right?"

She shakes her head, "No regrets." The answer coming out like second nature, right from her gut without any resistance, and she smiles brightly, almost enough to make her cheeks hurt, biting her bottom lip. "Definitely no regrets."

"I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" she asks while he untangles from the blanket.

He's unzipping the tent and lifting his heavy bag outside, asking for at least ten minutes before she follows and zips her inside again.

She can't believe she's as giddy as a schoolgirl over an evening of kisses. But she supposes it's more than that. It's a huge step for her, for opening up again, giving into something she's spent weeks fighting.

So she's going to let herself be fucking giddy.

She's going to brush her fingers over her lips and remember how they frantically edged closer and closer to his tent with nothing but glowing embers to guide their way. She's going to sit up and redo her braid as well as she can as she thinks about how much Robin loves to have his fingers in her hair, how he'd gently weaved them at the back of her head to keep her entirely fused with him.

"Close your eyes," he says, unzipping the tent to be open again and peering inside, making sure that she's obeying his request, and even though she's not usually one for playing along, she'll give him this one.

The smells hits her immediately, completely ruining his surprise, and her eyes snap open with a gasp. He's holding two small metal cups that are steaming, piping hot.

"Coffee?!" she asks, leaving her jaw hanging open at his surprise. His smile is proud when he gives her one of the cups and she holds it in cupped hands close to her nose, inhaling deeply and losing herself in that sweet scent that reminds her of some of her favourite mornings. "You've had coffee this whole time?"

If she wasn't so happy, she'd poke more fun at him, but she awaits his excuse curiously. "Ah," he bows his head with a gentle smile, "I grabbed some at the mall, but then you refused to even look at me and I figured I should keep a hold of it to use in a moment of desperation." He's shuffling across the floor of the tent on his knees when he joked, "but then you practically threw yourself at me yesterday and I thought this morning would be quite fitting," before sitting back down by her side.

" _Threw_  myself at you?" She scoffs a laugh, humming onto the rim of the cup before she slumps down into her crossed legs.

Robin nudges against her shoulder when she lowers her mug into her lap. "What's wrong?"

She looks up to smile at him tightly before bowing her head back down towards her lap, sighing deeply, confessing, "I forgot for a second." She looks back to him, chewing on the inside of her cheek dejectedly.

He sighs understandingly. "Who knew a bit of coffee and laughter could make us forget about the impending doom outside?" She can only nod, humming again when she takes a sip of the heavenly liquid he's prepared for her. "It doesn't hurt to pretend for a little while."

"True," she agrees with amusement, thinking back to the many mornings she and Daniel have spent in similar situations. He'd bring her coffee, neither of them would want to start their day, so they'd stay in bed just a little bit longer before having to rush around madly to make it into work on time. "We have a lot to walk today," she says. "But...five more minutes?"

"Five more minutes."

…..

The aches in her body are bad.

After the first few nights of sleeping on the forest floor and walking an endless number of hours when daylight permitted, the pain lingered solely in her muscles - her hips and thighs mostly. But now that they have been walking for days straight, at least ten hours today, combined with sleeping on this damn ground every night, the dull aches are now rooted right in the centre of her bones.

She could have cried when Robin noted the nearby river, suggesting that they should stop for the day and fill their water bottles. There's a lot of mixed feelings; the thought of not having to ration water as tightly takes a weight off her mind, but there will be an undeniable increase on the weight in her bag.

The second the river is in sight, Regina unclips the backpack from her torso, not giving a damn how hastily it falls from her shoulders and clammers against the ground. Her hips are throbbing, her shoulder blades feel like they are about to crack, and she knows that the straps have rubbed her skin raw enough to break the surface at this point.

She groans heavily as she fights against her muscles as she slips to her knees, leaning forward on her arms until she is on all fours and just breathes. In and out. In and out until she can catch her breath and focus on anything other than the miserable pain leeching all over her body.

Robin sweetly squeezes as lightly as possible against the back of her neck, a supportive gesture, before he drops his own pack. She focuses on the sound of his bag unzipping, the metallic clunking as he looks through his supplies.

"Here," he mutters through chattering teeth, and when she cranes her neck upward, she catches the shimmering of a medicine packet in his outstretched hand. "There's only one left," he sighs, "but you need it."

"I'm fine," she groans as she shakes away his offer. It's a lie, but the last thing they need is to be wasting medical supplies on something as little as muscle aches. "Really."

"At least take your boots off," he asks, patting against her knees as he rummages for the few medical supplies they have left. She looks at him quizzically, to which his reply is, "You've been limping. Let me see."

She does, hissing sharply through her teeth as the pressure is relieved from the broken skin. Her socks are bloody, so much that Robin sighs when he notices. "How long have they been hurting?"

"Honestly?" She laughs dryly and he nods. "Since before the mall. All the walking we've been doing have made it worse."

Robin frowns as he rolls down her sock to expose her heel, "You should have said something. We could have slowed down or stopped."

Regina grits her teeth when Robin pours the little amount of ethanol they have left over her blisters and cracked skin, and through the pain she winces, "We have to keep going."

"No," he argues firmly. "Not until these have healed up."

"Robin-" she attempts to argue him on it, but he's stern.

"No." He affirms, wrapping a bandage tightly around her entire foot. "There's no use letting this get any worse or infected. And I don't know about you, but I am exhausted. Another day like this and I think I might break."

"I think I'm already broken," she jokes sadly, scrunching her face up tightly as she fights through the ache of squeezing her boot back on. "I should have picked up better shoes."

"They're too tight?" He asks, helping her lace it up, kindly making sure there's the tiniest bit of slack in them. She nods in answer to his question. "You could have taken a new pair from one of the stores."

"I figured breaking them in would be awful," she explains. "Though I've ended up in the same situation." He pulls her laces tightly into their final knot. "Thanks."

"The wind's dying down," he says, standing up slowly. They'd been walking against some hefty gusts all day. "It seems safe here and we've only a little sunlight left. Shall we set up for the night?"

The dim oranges and pinks of the sunset linger close to the horizon through the trees as darkness slithers in from the opposite direction. They've only another hour or so to find everything they need. She nods, thrilled when he offers both of his hands to help her stand up, and she can't be more grateful when he lets her take her time to stretch her legs straight, careful to let her muscles guide the speed of the ascent.

"I'll prep the tarp," Robin offers, dropping his hands to her waist for a moment to hold her steady.

"I'll handle the fire."

As she wanders around the outskirts of their decided camp for the evening, she picks up everything she finds that can be of any use to keep them cosy. Her boots crunch in leaves as she steps around the forest floor, groaning faintly every time she has to bend down to pick something from it, but she straightens up quickly when she hears the stretch of his bow from just behind her. She turns immediately, reaching for her gun when she sees that Robin, an arrow pointing into the forest just over her shoulder.

"What is it?" She asks in a whisper, edging back to stand by his side.

He shushes her quietly, so she clamps her lips together and follows where his narrowed eyes are staring. "I thought I heard something."

"Are you su-"

Then she hears it too, a distant crunching in the leaves with no rhythm just out in front of them. She pries the gun from her belt and points it ahead, matching Robin's tenacity as she stares ahead.

They haven't encountered any of the undead for days, so a run in has been on the cards for a while now, but as they near closer and closer to Chicago, they can't be sure of who or what is lurking in the shadows. They can never be too careful.

"There," Robin says sharply, taking a step forward to be in front of her.

She sees it, a silhouette just off in the distance slipping between the trees.

"It's too fast to be one of them," Regina mutters quickly, stepping up to press her chest against Robin's back. "Gold?" She asks in the softest whisper she can muster, and that's when he reaches back and squeezes a pulse against her aching thigh.

"Get ready to run," he replies and starts edging them back towards their camp with small steps.

Her heart is racing, considering all the ways she could possibly drop her armful of branches without being heard, if they had any chance to pick up their supplies in time, hell she doesn't even know if her body will  _let_  her run with the shape it's in.

"Wait," she says, stopping abruptly his from stepping back. As the assumed enemy gets closer, Regina catches a glimpse of wild, messy, blonde hair, and the last thing she feels is threatened.

"Over there," Regina whispers, pointing in the stranger's direction so he can see too. A woman wandering alone, and it would appear that she hasn't noticed them, like she's lost in her own little world. There's a hushed, hummed melody falling from her lips that Regina can only just now start to make out. She's carrying a large satchel on her side, something that immediately makes Regina say, "I think she's just getting supplies," in a whisper to Robin, but she still keeps her finger firmly on the trigger, just in case her instinct is off, just in case the flowing white dress and knitted shawl are a way to make the blonde seem less of a threat.

Robin relaxes a little, bow and arrow still primed and ready to do, but he steps forward, his boot crunching and snapping the wood on the ground. They may have not been noticed before, but they sure have been now.

They blonde snaps her head towards to unexpected sound, but they aren't greeted with a look of fear of despair, just an inkling of a surprise that melts into a soft smile and she breathes a very friendly, "Hey."

She walks towards them and Regina is grateful for the distance left between them, Robin standing firmly in the centre while their weapons still being gripped tightly in their hands, and the blonde notices. She even chuckles a little before ensuring, "I won't hurt y'all." Then with a concerned look, she says, "Which one of ya is hurt?"

"What makes you think one of us is hurt?" Robin asks, still standing protectively in front of Regina.

"Just a feelin'," she shrugs, adjusting the large satchel on her shoulder, not once taking her eyes off of Regina, like she just knows.

"I'm fine," Regina tells her.

"Sure?" She asks again, and when Regina tells her yes, she introduces herself. "I'm Misty. There's a bunch of us stayin' not far from here. I collect water at sunset from the river," she points in the direction of the running water. "Did y'all need some to take with ya?"

Misty reaches inside her satchel for some clear water bottles and offers them kindly to the pair.

Robin drops his bow then. Much like Regina has, it would appear Robin has found nothing to be a threat with this one. "We have some," Robin tells Misty. "But thank you." Robin's quick to feel comfortable around her, easily giving in to the feeling that tells him that there's no impending danger.

"I'm Robin," he introduces but doesn't make an effort to introduce Regina. Instead, he respects her boundaries and looks over his shoulder at her. She smiles tightly, giving Robin permission. "And this is Regina."

"Robin and Regina," Misty repeats with a smile as bright as the orange sunset. "Stunnin' names. Like they were meant to adventure side by side. Hey, do y'all wanna join me to the river? I need to get down there, if I ain't back soon, my friends will worry."

"How many are with you?" Robin asks curiously.

"Well," Misty begins, walking away in the direction of the water, encouraging them to follow. "There's Ruby. She's great, she's letting us stay in her home. Cordelia has been with me since before the beginning," Misty turns to them, walking backwards while she adds, "she's my heart," with a hand on her chest. "Archie is an angel, always saying the right thing… and Jefferson. He's really good at chess and makes a wonderful cup of tea, but he's a bit kooky."

Regina snorts softly at the irony, at Misty's hazy personality, all while trying to disguise it as a question. "How long have you been here?"

"Far too many sunsets to count," Misty tells them, stepping right into the stream of water before crouching down with an empty water bottle in hand. "You can come back with me if you'd like. We are kind to those who are in need of help."

"That's very nice of you, but," Robin says, "we've somewhere we need to be."

"Alright," Misty nods, still filling up her empty containers and slotting them back in her bag. "Just watch out for the horsemen."

Regina had all but walked away before stopping in her tracks, Misty's words tempting her with information that they might need. "You've seen them?" Regina asks.

Misty stands, long dress soaked and dripping. She faces them and steps from the running water, "They are bad people. Very, very bad."

"How often do they ride through?" Robin inquires.

"Too often," Misty frowns, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. It's the first sign she's shown any sign of fear since Regina laid her eyes on her. "Ruby always has us hide. She knows the monster controlling them and she always tells us that if he finds us, we would be better off dead."

Suddenly Misty has every ounce of their attention.

"She knows Gold?" Robin asks, moving closer to stand shoulder to shoulder with Regina.

"What's it to ya?" Misty's eyebrow raises inquisitively. "You're not one of them, I'd have been able to sense that type of darkness on ya." She stares them down a little, putting the pieces together on her own. "You're lookin' to find him, aren't ya? You think you can stop him. I must've been right before, y'all really are on an adventure."

They don't say anything to confirm or deny Misty's almost spot on assumptions, instead Regina grips tightly onto Robin's hand when Misty smirks a little and says, "I suppose that means you'll be comin' back with me after all."


End file.
